QUAGMIRE
by foxdvd
Summary: Nick had given up hopes of finding love and had settled for sex.  He thought things wouldn't have to be different with her, so why is he having second thoughts?
1. The club

**A/N: **The muse is refusing to let go of the last episode over at NY, and is instead mulling over this… uh… kinda dark piece. To some, this Nick might seem a tad OC, but as of lately the muse has wanted her leading men to be…well… more "human" and less "one-dimensional". So if you love reading stories starring Saint!Nick, this might not be a suitable story for you. If you don't mind taking a walk on the wild side, then come on in. Who knows? You just might find this interesting…

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They wouldn't have been there, not when they were on duty early next morning, but it was Cath's birthday and she had insisted on them taking a few hours off from their everyday routine. Even Grissom had agreed to make an appearance, despite the fact that he wasn't a night club creature. Greg, on the other hand, had been hyped by the idea, and kept bugging Sara to dance with him. After her third icy brush off, he decided to change tactics and began sweet talking Mandy, who wasn't as tough to please. Warrick had asked the birthday girl to dance, joining Hodges and Wendy who had hit the dance floor almost as soon as they had arrived, and provoking more than one raised eyebrow among the whole crew.

Nick had been nursing a drink ever since he had arrived and although he hadn't missed a thing going on at the table, he hadn't been an active participant, either. Sara and Grissom were so into each other, it was amazing that they weren't even touching and yet you could almost feel the intimacy between them. Brass had been in soft conversation with Sofia, who had already turned down two invitations to dance by two hunky guys and a drink offer from a curvy brunette. Nick had heard the rumors that she might be gay, or bi at the very best, and he had to admit to having wondered about it himself. He had this nice lil' fantasy stashed away in the part of his brain he used while jerking off before going to sleep, and it shamed him just a tiny bit to admit that such fantasy involved the blond detective, a perky redhead and himself.

He decided to finish his drink and go home, since he was obviously a 5th wheel at the table and nobody would sorely miss him if he did leave. Just then he noticed the blond girl at the table across from him. She looked slightly famil… oh yeah… he remembered her. Quite vividly, now that he thought about it. She had been looking his way for a couple of times, and the next time she did, he made sure to smile brightly at her. A couple of smiles later, he headed towards her and they were soon dancing… and then some.

Sofia looked at them, wistful expression in her face flashing for a moment, returning to her drink and her friend.

"If you ask me," Brass mentioned, lightly, "You should have asked him yourself if you wanted to dance with him." Sofia's icy stare made him add hastily, "which of course, you didn't, or else you'd have done so in the first place, so never mind..."

"Contrary to popular belief, Jim, I AM an old fashioned kind of gal… if he was interested in dancing with me, he would have asked. But judging by what's going on at the dance floor, I'll dare say that "dancing" is the furthest thing in his mind right now…"

Brass looked at the dance floor, wrinkled his nose, and turned back to Sofia. "If it's any consolation, it does mean he respects you…"

"Yeah... right… what's this fixation of yours with me and Nick, anyway? You'd be getting a closer hit if you started on Cath and 'Rick…"

"Nah… those two have gotten boring… I've been expecting them to fall in bed for 5 years now… not much fun there, I can tell you. Granted, I never saw that idiot marrying someone else coming, but it added to the drama for a while. Now that he's separated they're pussyfooting things again… You and Nick, on the other hand…"

"Me and Nick, what?" interrupted Sofia, hoping the darkness of the place hid the pink tint her cheeks were surely showing.

"Kiddo, I've worked with you two long enough to know that you're not the shining smile type… except when you two are paired together. Then you smile so much even my cheeks hurt. It's sickening, Fia, really sickening. Buy hey, last time I checked, "de nial" was still a river in Egypt, so what do I know?"

Just then, the band ceased to play and everyone returned to the table to order another round of drinks. All except Nick, who muttered something about "going outside to get some fresh air", which brought on male catcalls and whistles and female eye rolling. Brass looked at Sofia before taking a sip of his drink. "Like I've never heard that one before" he muttered, to no one in particular.

Nick and the blonde never made it to his truck. As soon as they reached the alley they were all over each other, and Nick remembered liking this particular characteristic in her. She wasn't huge on conversation, at least not the traditional concept of conversation, but she knew what to do with that mouth of hers just fine, thank you very much, and it wasn't long before she had him against the wall, her hands on his jeans, and getting on her knees to continue the "conversation" with his better half, in her opinion, at least.

He closed his eyes and allowed himself to enjoy the feeling. He was a romantic, true, but he was weathered enough to know that he wasn't going to find true love clubbing. Sex, however, was an entirely different matter, and the sole reason he went clubbing in the first place. One night stands used to leave him emotionally drained, but after months turned into years without a solid relationship, and especially after his own buried alive ordeal, he had learned to take them for what they were: outlets for his frustration. Pleasurable outlets. He just made sure that he always had protection handy and that the girl in question enjoyed herself as well, and that was about it.

Experience had thought him which girls were still looking for Mr. Right and which were on the hunt for a Mr. Right Now, emphasis on the "now" part. Those were the girls he preferred to hook up with lately. No need for conversation, no need to play the wooing game, no need to debate on whose place to go to. Most of the times, a back alley or the back seat of the truck would do. Just sex, that was all it was, and it sure beat masturbation when it came to achieving physical release.

Nick closed his eyes and allowed himself to enjoy the oral ministrations this girl was regaling him with. She was good, damn it, and pretty soon she had him moaning out loud, caution thrown to the wind for a couple of minutes. However, things didn't end up as he had planned, as he was pushed away not so gently, and he opened his eyes in time to see the girl stand up, upset written all over her face.

"Jerk! This may be just sex, but at least have the decency not to moan out another woman's name while I'm sucking you off! My name doesn't even begin with an S! Idiot!" And she stormed off, leaving a bewildered and almost fully aroused Nick behind.

He waited a few minutes before redressing. Refusing to even think about what had just happened, for deep down he was pretty certain whose name he had called out, he headed for his truck, realizing a tad too late that he had given Warrick the keys so he could stash some of his stuff in there while they were at the club. Nick had two choices then: either wait for 'Rick to come out and pretend he was just getting finished with business, or walk back into the bar, endure the not-so-gentle ribbing from the guys, get his keys and get home. Checking on his clock, he decided to face the crowd, as sitting here for at least another hour was going to mean analyzing his feelings and he didn't want to do so just them. The club gave him a legit excuse for not thinking about it for at least another hour, and if he was lucky, he'd get smashed enough to be able to "forget" about it for the time being.

Nick knew he wasn't even kidding himself. It had been a while since she started popping up unannounced in his sexual fantasies, and he was aware of her name dripping from his lips when he indulged in them. So far, so good, or at least, that's what he had told himself… just a harmless fantasy, which was all it was. But then he had a couple of daydreams about her as well… romantic daydreams for lack of a better definition, and he had been momentarily worried. He had chased the notion away, telling him that she was, indeed, one hell of a woman: smart, strong, independent, witty, sexy without even trying… the guy she ended up sharing her life with was going to be one lucky bastard. But it wasn't as if he wanted to be THAT lucky bastard, was it? All it meant was that he wanted a woman like her for himself. It didn't necessarily mean he wanted HER. He bought that line along with a nice bridge over the Hudson Bay, and life had gone about its everyday business. Until tonight. Tonight was the first time that he was aware of, that he had called out her name when in company of another woman. Nick briefly considered looking for her once he got back in order to apologize, but he quickly discarded the idea.

He slid quietly back in his chair, hoping everyone was so engrossed in whatever nonsense Greg was spinning to realize he was back. No such luck.

"Back already? So soon?" was Greg's not-so-kind welcome, and everyone turned to see a halfway embarrassed Nick looking down ant his almost empty glass.

"Air was too cold for her liking" he mumbled, hoping Greg would get the hint.

He didn't. He began pestering him with all the innuendos he could come up with that involved the usage of the word "cold" or any other synonym, and none of them were flattering for the older CSI. Nick held on in silence, but his mood was getting somber, so he finally decided to put and end to the jesting.

"Crime stopper" he growled simply, and Greg got the message. His neck and shoulder muscles had taken some time to recover from the Texan's grip after the whole "crime stopper" joke and he wasn't willing to risk another close encounter with Nick's right hand any time soon. So he shut up.

The band began playing again and Sara, Grissom and Brass took it as their cue to bid their good night. The rest of the crew got up to dance, leaving only Nick and Sofia at the table. Sofia silently wished she hadn't just ordered another drink so she could have left with Jim and not be stuck in this situation. Granted, she had never before felt uncomfortable around the CSI, but she could tell just by looking at him that he was in a foul mood, so she pretended to be fascinated by the wedge of lemon in her whiskey sour.

"Come on. Get it over with."

She looked up, surprised.

"Excuse me?"

"Crack the joke already. You know you want to. I'm a grown man, I can take whatever it is that you dish out…"

Sofia looked up at Nick and seemed to be in deep thought for a moment or two, pondering his request, and for a moment he regretted having put himself in such a vulnerable position. Suddenly, she smiled brightly and got up.

"Shall we dance?" she asked

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**A/N: ** Just in case you're wondering, a **quagmire** is an awkward, complicated, or dangerous situation from which it is difficult to escape… thought you might find the information useful…


	2. The car

**A/N: ** Hmm… this story hasn't gotten the usual reviews. Perhaps the idea of a not so sunshiny Nick scared them readers away? Oh well… can't fight with the muse, else she chooses to go back to the basement!

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Twelve days had gone by since Catherine's impromptu birthday party. Twelve days in which Nick had not seen Sofia. In person, that is. In the confines of his mind, in the comfort of his bed, in the privacy of his fantasies, she had been a more than constant companion during those twelve days. Deep down, Nick knew he should stop. This… addiction… of his wasn't healthy at all. Not that he was afraid of going blind or growing hair on the backs of his hands, mind you, but it was wrong. She was a human being ("a precious human being" chimed in his heart) and she didn't deserve to be objectified like this.

So it was with certain trepidation that he headed for the crime scene on that particular night, knowing she was going to be the detective in charge, not knowing if he was going to be able to look at her in the face without blushing deeply or getting aroused. He liked working with her, heck, he liked BEING with her in the real world (and more than liked it in the fantasy realm, chimed in his libido) and he wasn't so keen on the idea of unbalancing that. So he told the rest of the voices taking part in his inner conversation to shut the fuck up and let him do his job in peace for a couple of hours. Libido and heart agreed on the sole condition that they'd go back to this particular conversation as soon as he got home (or could hit the showers on his own, added libido gleefully, before scurrying back to its usual hiding place).

Sofia greeted him with her usual warmth and a smirk. She remembered what Brass had said about them smiling too much and tried to keep it to a minimum, but she was not one to deny that the sight of the rugged Texan was one for sore eyes, and his quirky personality did manage to charm her… would probably charm her out of her panties if she wasn't careful, too. Not that she found the idea… unappealing. But real life consequences kept her charming theories well hidden under her pillow… and her bedside drawer.

The boys in uniform quickly filled them on the case. Gunshots and an abandoned car, two dead bodies left behind as well, one in the trunk and one in the dust. David and the ME gang were already taking care of them, so Nick and Sofia took out their flashlights and began looking around the car.

"I had a nice time at the club." Sofia said conversationally, as she checked for tire marks or anything else that indicated the presence of another vehicle in the area.

"So did I." replied Nick, who had been searching for bullet casings.

He smiled as he recalled the night at the club. Sofia couldn't dance to save her life, but she knew it and she didn't care. She was too rigid, or perhaps a bit afraid to completely let go, and Nick wondered if he could talk Cath into teaching the blond detective a couple of moves. The idea had merits; except that he would have to explain to the former stripper exactly WHY he wanted Sofia to learn how to dance, and he'd much rather not go there. He knew Catherine; she wasn't one of the best investigators in the whole lab just for her perky tits. The moment he went beyond the "Well… uh… I…" she'd KNOW he was hiding something. And since "relentless" seemed to be the woman's middle name, he wasn't willing to risk having his secret virtually stared out of him. He knew he wasn't that good at keeping things from her, to begin with.

And maybe Sofia wasn't up to speed with the latest rhythms and her shoulders needed to learn how to loosen a lot more, but, damn, the woman could MOLD herself when it came to slow dancing! The moment the lights had grown dimmer (if that had been possible) and the music turned to a slower, more intimate beat, Nick had had a moment of panic as he debated between taking her back to the table, and maybe calling it a night as well, or staying on the dance floor. He took Sofia's hand and felt her moving closer, so his arm went around her waist to close the distance between them.

Nick had half expected their slow dancing to be awkward and slightly stiff, and was pleasantly surprised when Sofia eased into his arms effortlessly, allowing him to guide her, moving as if they were one. "Ballroom dancing" she had murmured in his ear, "Three years with Miss Bouchard in middle school. I may not be able to tango, but I do have a mean waltz…" Half an hour later, Nick had no doubts about her waltzing skills… or about the fact that he very much wished they didn't have to separate so soon afterwards. Once of twice he opened his mouth to ask if she was up for a night cap, her place or his, it didn't matter, but both times he had remained quiet. Sofia wasn't one of those girls he'd been "seeing" lately. She was worth, at the very least, the effort of a couple of proper dates before even considering moving things to something more intimate, say, a kiss goodnight. And plenty of good night kisses before considering a night cap that would end on a making out session. And…

He stopped his train of though right there. His body wasn't all that happy of having been left "hanging mid action" so to speak, and Sofia felt too darn good so close to him to allow his mind to wander down that particular alley. And while she might overlook a hold that was too firm, or a casual hand brush, that was certainly not the case if she suddenly found herself pressed against the bulge of his erection. No. If Nick Stokes wanted to have a chance of something more with Sofia Curtis, he had to be in his best behavior that night. Or any other night, because if Nick was honest with himself, he wanted the chance, but he was afraid of pursuing it.

David's voice calling to him brought him back to present day, and he waved as the coroner's assistant packed the two bodies in the van and drove away, closely followed by the patrol boys, effectively leaving him and Sofia alone. Fishing his mind out of the gutter he went back to retrieve his equipment case, and soon afterwards he was head first dusting for prints inside the car's trunk.

He and Sofia had been throwing theories back and forth, and he found it strange after a while that she hadn't answered back his last remark.

"Sofia?" he called out, moving to straighten up, when he felt cold steel pressed against the back of his neck. Seconds later he was blinded by the harsh lights of three flash lights, and he brought up his hand carefully, trying to shield his eyes from the glare.

"Careful there, cowboy" a cold male voice called out. "No funny moves or the pretty lady here will not enjoy it."

Nick looked up to find Sofia being held between two men: one holding a gun to her head while the other one held her in a sick embrace, one hand plastered against her mouth while the other was taking a few liberties with her body and Nick had to fight the urge to tell him to get his hands off of her. He knew that showing such emotion only gave the criminals more leverage against them. He looked at her apologetically and could read in her wide eyes the fear and the understanding, side by side.

"Sonny, grab the bag from the car while I consider what to do with these two…"called the man that kept his gun trained on Nick. The man who had had his own gun pointed at Sofia gave it to the third guy, who thankfully stopped feeling her up to take it, and moved to the car.

"Why don't we off him and take her with us? Gets pretty lonely out there in the desert…" suggested the man who was holding Sofia prisoner, running his tongue on the side of her face. Nick gritted his teeth and balled his fists, mentally vowing to make the bastard pay for that down the road. Sofia had closed her eyes in disgust, but otherwise kept perfectly still. She knew that putting up a fight would only end up in her getting raped and them getting killed… if the perps hadn't decided on doing that already.

"Sorry, lover boy, but that's not in the agenda tonight. And I'm not too fond of killing cops, either… things are already a tad too hot to handle as they are without adding half the state of Nevada's troopers after us. But I have a better idea…"

The man jabbed his hands in Nick pockets, pulling them inside out until he got the keys of the truck out. "Looks like we've got ourselves a new set of wheels, gentlemen!" he added merrily.

"Night, cowboy" he hissed in Nick's ears, before striking him with the butt of his pistol, and Nick's world went black.

XxxxX

Nick came back to his senses and he noticed that it was almost pitch dark. He also felt something heavy pressing against him. He tried moving, but no matter in what direction he tried to do so, he soon bumped against solid surfaces.

"Oh, God, no. Not again. Please, please, please, not-again, I-can't-handle-it-again, oh-please-God-not-again-please…" screamed his mind, as his body fought hard not to give in to panic.

His fledging hands soon made contact with something soft and it took him a moment or two to realize it was hair, human hair. "Sofia!" he thought, and the mere idea of her there with him, probably needing him to be strong for them both, calmed him down enough.

He started checking her up. "Sofia? Fia, girl… wake up, wake up, babe, you're scaring me here and I can't do without that just now… come one sweetheart, wake up…" he pleaded, as he gently tried to awaken her. He didn't realize he was using such terms of endearment at the moment, he was merely reacting to the circumstances, and the circumstances called for his guard to be completely down.

Nick let out a sigh of relief when Sofia started muttering and coming back to her senses.

"Sofia?" he asked quietly, taking his hands off her, not wanting to frighten her.

"N-nick? Wha… what happened? Where are we?"

"I'm right here, Fi" he answered, placing his hands on her shoulders. Then, remembering he had been cold-cocked and leaving her alone with a lecherous guy, he quickly turned serious. If they had touched her...

"Sofia? Are you hurt? Did they… did they touch you?" he asked, hating to ask the questions, but needing to know all the same.

Sofia was still trying to clear her head. "I don't… I don't' think so" she answered, running her hands over her clothing. Every piece of clothing seemed to be in place, and she didn't feel the tell-tale stickiness in her thighs. "I'm fine, Nick"

"Are you sure? This ain't no time to be playing tough cop, Sofia…"

"I'm sure. They put you out cold and threw you into the car's trunk. Then they hit me. If the guy got frisky afterwards, I'm blissfully unaware of it… not that he did much… my blouse isn't even un-tucked…"

Sofia knew the man could have very well re-dressed her if he had taken some liberties with her unconscious body, but she seriously doubted he'd take the time to do so. Besides, Nick certainly didn't need to hear about THAT possibility just then.

"So you're saying we are…" Nick's voice had an edge of infinite terror. Now that his mind didn't have Sofia's wellbeing to worry about and hold on to, it was creeping back in time two years, to a different lock up.

"Locked inside the car trunk. Yeah." Sofia wanted to slap herself as soon as the words left her mouth. The crack to her head must have wiped off half her neurons… how could she be so stupid?

She heard Nick's breath as it started to sound more labored, unmistakable sound that he was starting to hyperventilate.

"We're going to be okay, Nick. I can see light coming through the cracks and crevices of the trunk, which means we're getting fresh air. And since there's light out there already, it means we've been missing for a while and they've probably realized so, and they're looking for us as we speak."

"But what if they drove the car to the middle of nowhere? What if they hid the car where it'll take days for anyone to find? What if we're in the middle of the desert? We're going to die in here before they find us…" Nick's voice raised as panic took hold of him.

Sofia has already wondered about those possibilities as well, and she could feel her own terror churning inside her, but she also knew she had to remain calm, if not for the sake of her own sanity, then for the sake of Nick's.

"They'll find us, Nick. They always do" she said, he voice soft so he'd be forced to quiet down in order to hear her.

"But what if…" Nick wanted to sound reasonable, but he knew he wasn't going to be able to keep it together for long.

"No ifs, Nick. We'll get out of this one. We'll start by helping ourselves. We'll start by kicking out the backlights, ok?"

Nick nodded, afraid of what his voice would betray. He was grateful Sofia was in here with him, she'll be the sole reason he didn't loose his mind completely.

They spent the next minutes figuring out how to get those lights out without harming themselves much. They both agreed that kicking was the best option, since they were both wearing boots, and proceeded to attack the tail light closer to their feet. It gave out after only a few kicks, which gave them some hope. The tricky part was now moving around so they could kick out the light that at the moment was closer to their heads.

"Only way I figure it'll work is if we climb atop each other in order to turn around, given that we don't have much room to move" said Sofia, after they had been bouncing ideas around.

"Sounds good to me, but would you mind going first so I can figure out exactly how you'll manage to do that" replied Nick, glad that he had kept himself busy working towards getting himself out of there, instead of giving in to panic and desperation. Truth to be told, Sofia's presence was also doing wonders for his sake of mind, too.

"Just 69 it, Nick" she blurted out, before clasping her hand to her mouth. She really hadn't meant it that way… well, she actually did, but not really meant it to sound like a cheesy come on.

Nick felt a flash of desire run all over him. He decided he was really loosing it if he was contemplating having sex, any kind of sex, with Sofia inside this car trunk. He started regretting having had that sexual Sofia-thon in the past days. Now that his body had caught the scent of sex in the air, even if it was just a metaphoric conversation, it wasn't going to let go so easily.

Grabbing her by her hips, he slid underneath her, holding her tight on top of him. Sofia bit back the squeal that had threatened to leave her throat and she was having a hard time remembering how to breathe for a moment there with Nick's hands firmly holding her by the hips, the solid frame of his body beneath her, his own breathing close to her ear.

"Show me" he growled, trying to control himself from pushing her hard against him, from seeking her mouth with his own, from moving his hands to her ass…

For a moment then, Sofia did forget how to breathe. Moaning, however, was an entirely different matter, and it was out of her mouth before she could stop it.

A growl and a moan. That was all it took.

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**A/N: ** I know. I know. No need to mention the _**evil**_ cliffie. Deep down you KNOW this is why you read my stuff. Well, that and the hot sex I'm assuming YOU are assuming will follow up this chappie…


	3. The confession

**A**/**N: ** Sorry about the delay. Between life getting back to normal after the hurricane and friends and family being kind enough to stretch my b-day festivities for close to a week I've barely have time to turn on my laptop, let alone write.

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The moment he heard her moan, Nick lost his grip on self-control. One arm snaked around her, pulling her flush against him. His other hand tangled itself in her hair, capturing her head, bringing her face to less than an inch from his. They were so close, in fact, that he could feel her breath on his lips whenever she exhaled and that fact alone turned him on even more. He shifted his hips just slightly so her center was resting firmly against the bulge of his erection, and he allowed the hand in her hair to trail down her spine, slowly, until it reached her ass. Her other hand traveled north, grazing her side, and he felt her shiver under his touch.

Ironically, it was her trembling that brought him back from the brink. Anchoring his hands to her hip bone and her shoulder, he managed to move his head sideways without touching her lips. Had he done that, he knew he'd have lost it. But he managed to resist temptation, somehow.

"I want you" he murmured hoarsely next to her ear, which brought another tremor in her. "I want you so bad, Fi… but damned if I'm going to have my way with you inside this car trunk. I don't want to mar something I've ached for by mixing it up with the stuff my nightmares are made of. So get off of me real slow, and for God's sake, don't touch me, 'cause I ain't no fucking saint and you're driving me crazy in here…"

Sofia did as told without so much as a word. Her mind was still reeling from Nick's confession. A part of her, the one closely linked to the ache she felt between her legs, was close to somersaulting upon realizing the kind of hold she had on Nick. Granted, he had as much, or even more, on her, but that wasn't the point just then. Another part of her, the one that had fought nail and tooth to get a place as a detective and be respected for it, was seething. As soon as they got back to Vegas she was slapping him with a sexual harassment suit, so fast it was going to leave the obnoxious, presumptuous, insufferable misogynist pig reeling before falling flat on his ass. She teetered between lust and ire, and decided to hold unto the latter, as it stood a better chance of getting them both out of there alive.

After punching the second taillight out, they had enough light to figure out how to break the latch on the trunk (thank God for those good ole gas-guzzling 70's Chevys!) and although it took them a couple of hours, given that they didn't have any adequate tools lying around, they finally managed to get out of there.

A quick inspection told them that they were, indeed, in the middle of nowhere, with no cell phones, no weapons and no watches or any sort of equipment, as well. Judging from the position of the sun, it had to be mid-morning, which meant they had been missing for close to 12 hours now, which meant half the LVPD was out there looking for them. Which was good in itself, but it also meant that it was up to them, in most part, if they came out of that one alive and not much worse for the wear or in a black body bag.

Removing the car jack from under the mat in the car trunk, they dug a S.O.S some 5 feet tall on the sand next to the car, hoping it'd be visible from a chopper. Then they ripped the back seat out of the frame and placed it against the car in order to give them some sort of shelter. Further inspection of the car revealed a couple of unwrapped energy bars and a half-full bottle of iced tea. The glove compartment had showered them with bubble gum sticks and cigarettes and a couple of maps that would work as paper fans, but that was about it.

They had barely crossed words since they've gotten out of the trunk, save for the necessary instructions on how to go about making things, and Nick could feel Sofia's anger seeping out of her every pore. Not that he wasn't expecting it; he'd be furious with himself if he were in her place. But what was he supposed to do? Pretend that the woman wasn't a fucking turn on with long legs and blue eyes? He wasn't blind, for crying out loud, and he wasn't dead, either. And he wanted her, as simple as that. Not the way he had wanted all those girls back at the clubs, but something far more intense, more primal, more of the "have her or die" variety. Did that make him a bad person? So be it, he was a mean mother fucker bastard, then.

Sofia had thrown herself into the tasks at hand so she wouldn't have time to think. Was it really that bad that Nick Stokes had confessed to finding her sexually appealing? Or that he had felt her up while trapped inside a car trunk? If Sofia remembered correctly from her psychology classes, once adrenaline kicked in during life-or-death situations, so did other hormones and pretty soon libido was buzzing as well. Maybe suing him for sexual harassment was a bit extreme… after all, he could always claim that she had started it by making sexually laden comments…

And if Sofia was honest enough with herself, bottom line was that she wanted him as well. Part of her "righteousness" anger stemmed from the fact that he hadn't kissed her back there, just teased her unmercifully. Truth to be told, she was also angry at herself for having reacted so strongly to his touch. She wasn't a virginal wall flower to be swooning over a couple of caresses! But oh… the feel of his hardening cock against her… the sheer agony of his mouth so close and yet so far… the blazing trail his fingers had left on her skin… it had been a while since there had been someone else other than her and her vibrator in her bed and she had this crazy idea that Nick Stokes was the kind of lover that would always have her coming back for more…

"It's getting too hot to be out in the sun…"

His voice made her look at him and she wished she hadn't. Nick had removed his ever present vest, had rolled up his sleeves and undone the first three buttons of his shirt, that was already plastered to his body in several places. She averted her gaze and realized her own shirt was soaked as well.

"Since I'm not betting on them finding us before night fall, perhaps it'd be best if we took the shirts off to allow them to dry before the temp starts to drop. If we keep them on they'll just remain wet and we don't have much to cover us with once night falls…"

Nick tried to keep his voice calm and professional, never once making eye contact with Sofia or even looking at her. Half turning his body away from hers, he removed his shirt and placed it inside the car for it to dry. Sofia followed his example without comment, and threw her own shirt at him so he'd put it next to his.

Trying to keep her cool, and keeping as much distance as possible between them, she slid underneath the seat they had taken out, and from there, to underneath the car, where it was the coolest. Nick followed suit, as soon they were, once again, lying next to each other without much room for movement and nowhere to run from themselves, their feelings and their lust.

Being almost naked from the waist up wasn't helping matters much, either, but Nick was trying hard not to dwell too much on that particular idea. And since it had been his big mouth that had gotten him in hot water, perhaps it was his big mouth that could try and get him out of the frying pan without having to jump into the open fire. At least, it was worth a try.

"Are you mad at me?" he asked, after a while.

"Why would I be?" she asked back, trying to buy herself some time, hoping she'd be able to force him to speak openly before a truthful answer was expected from her.

"Because I told you I want you. Because I touched you as a lover and not as a work mate. Because I'm clenching my hands so they won't go find you again. Because I didn't kiss you back then. Because I'm dying to kiss you just now. Because I'm going to do it. And because I won't be able to stop at just kissing you either…"

Sofia struggled to find her voice. Every single word he had said felt like a punch on her lower belly, each leaving her weaker than the one before. Each passing through her body like a fire ball, devastating what was left of her anger and leaving the road clear for lust to take over.

"Why?" she barely whispered.

"Damned if I know. You've gotten underneath my skin and I can't get you out of my head. Can't get you out of my dreams, either, and I don't mean just the sexual ones. Fuck, Fi, I don't know how the hell I feel about you. All I know is that I'm dying here without you and once I have you I'm not going to want to let go and I don't know if I'm ready for that just yet… but I can't go about calling perfect strangers by your name every time I…"

"You… what?" Anger was back in charge for the time being.

Nick threw an arm over his eyes. He'd fucked up, big time. He wasn't sure he was ever going to be able to explain to Sofia just what she did to him, to his peace of mind, to his heart, to his libido, to his soul…

He just hoped he'd be able to show her.

Before Sofia could realize what was going on, Nick had rolled right next to her and his mouth was on hers in a flash. She tried to voice her protest, but the moment her lips parted his tongue slid in and she was doomed. He was holding her head with both hands, gently, as if she was something really fragile, and her lips were moving over hers, both gentle and demanding, as his tongue swept inside her mouth, searching for hers, cajoling, teasing, begging… and even if her life had depended on it, Sofia wouldn't had been able to resist kissing him back, her hands holding unto his arms, her lips as eager as his, her tongue following the path his was setting.

Soon her lips weren't enough to quench the thirst Nick felt burning inside, and he began kissing her cheeks and the bridge of her nose and her closed eyelids. As soon as began nibbling alongside her jaw line he knew he'd reach the point of no return. Now that he knew how she tasted, now that he knew what her mouth was capable of doing to his ability to think straight, now that his tongue had learned the contour of her face… he'd never be able to let go, there would never be other woman for him but Sofia Curtis. She'd branded him his the second her tongue touched his and he wanted more.

Much more.

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**A/N: ** If I kept on writing what'll happen between these two, this chapter would end up being longer than an Alaskan winter night. Remember: good things come to those who wait (and even better to those who review as well! Yeah… I'm shameless… part of my charming personality!)


	4. The clasp

**A/N: ** Sorry for the delay. Muse just wasn't in the mood…

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Nick took a second to look at the woman in his arms. As soon as she felt his mouth leave her skin, she opened her eyes, and to Nick that was the most beautiful sight he'd seen in months… maybe years… perhaps his whole life. And it almost broke what was left of his heart.

He was about to open his mouth, fearing what would come out of it, when he noticed a stray drop of sweat traveling from the side of her neck towards the slop of her shoulder, and his finger decided to follow its path. He barely registered the change in Sofia's breathing pattern as he did so, so engrossed he was, marveling at how her skin puckered up as soon as the moisture and his finger traveled over it.

The bead of barely there moisture flattened as it tangled on her bra strap, taking the detour the elastic material presented. And his finger followed as well, traveling down, reaching where the strap connected with the cloth forming the cup. He liked silk and lace as much as the next guy, but in his mind it made perfect sense that she'd wear cotton to work and he found that the simple garment, practical and yet becoming, was as much a turn on for him as any see through skimpy lingerie would have been. It was just her, it was just perfect, it was… it just was.

The drop he'd been following was now a stain above her heart, a tiny speck of darkened cloth on the swell of her breast, and for a moment he wanted nothing more than to use his tongue to leave the whole area covered with similar stains. But the heat of the desert was beating him to it, and soon more beads were sliding down her throat, traveling south, and his fingers were having a hard time keeping track of each and every one of them, or the way Sofia's skin trembled as he did so.

He had been pleasantly surprised to find out she was more full figured than what he had expected. Not that he favored big breasted women. He was just happier if he could hold a woman's breast in his hand fully… he'd grown with the "champagne glass" theory about what size was perfect and he stood pretty much by it all his sexually active life. One of the things he missed from Texas, the one thing he really disliked from Vegas, were natural breasts. All those mounds of silicon just left him cold, with no desire whatsoever to touch, or taste, them. He had spent a lifetime surrounded by women, and he still couldn't understand why they couldn't leave perfect enough as it was. He had gone as far as threatening one of his sisters with cutting all ties with her if she went ahead with her idiotic plan of going under the knife. She had fortunately given up on the idea… Nick suspected his now brother-in-law has more to do with it than his own threats, but in the end it didn't matter what had made her change her mind… se had stayed away from the scalpel and that was what mattered.

Sofia had been clenching her own hands to stop from squirming. Between his fingertips and his intense gaze she felt that she wouldn't' be able to remain still for too long. And the way he was looking at her… it was enough to make her dizzy, enough for her to be thankful to be lying down, cause her knees would had probably given up on her since his first finger began tracing patterns along her collarbone. She'd manage to keep the voice of reason at bay, and insecurities and doubts locked up for the time being, but she wasn't sure how much longer she'd be able to do so. But what could she do? Now that she'd kiss him there was little hope of things going back to the way they were. Maybe it was the fact that she'd actually fantasized about how it'd be to kiss him or maybe it was simply because he was one hell of a kisser. Maybe it was just simply a matter of her being lonely and being horny. Whatever it was, she just wished they could stay in this little time-suspended bubble for as long as possible before rescue came to aid them. Rationally she knew that the sooner they were found, the better for their well-being, but just then, her well being was the furthest thing form her mind, with Nick's finger once again on the move, this time tracing the outline of her bra, from the strap to the clasp nested in between her breasts…

Although not perfect, a far cry from it given the media mold, Nick was quickly growing fond of Sofia's breasts. He loved the way they moved whenever she breathed, the way her skin rippled under his touch, he loved the texture and softness and roundness of them… and he had yet to get started on her nipples. Despite the sweltering heat surrounding them, his touch and his touch alone had managed to harden them without even touching them, and Nick watched, in awe, at how they became more and more apparent under the cotton cloth covering them, but not shielding them from his sight.

Or his mouth. He was suddenly assaulted with the imperious need to suck them through her bra, and yet decided to put it off for as long as he could, relishing the agony of the wait. He wanted to commit her breast to his memory, first visual, then tactile… and finally oral. Nick was as visual as the next guy, his own Penthouse magazine collection being proof of that, but he was highly tactile, as well. He could forgo tasting as long as he could touch… a mere brush of his finger tips over female skin was enough to turn him on, more so than watching the same skin naked.

He guessed that's why he enjoyed dancing so much. For him, dancing was a form of foreplay. A socially accepted form of foreplay, where he could use hands-on experience to determine the kind of lover his companion for the evening would be. And perhaps Sofia hadn't been such a great dancer, but her skin had reacted under his touch… and he had reacted as well, which was probably why he had been masturbating to her memory the past days.

Nick finally gave in to his own desires, and using a single finger, he circled the nipple, now clearly visible through the white cotton. His actions were met with a sharp intake of breath and a low growl from Sofia, growl that seemed to travel down his spine until it finally nested in his groin, making his balls ache with anticipation. His finger kept on circling, coming closer and closer, until it finally rested on the peak. His other hand moved to give the left nipple the same attention, and soon both nubs of flesh were standing to attention, turgid, begging to be kissed and nibbled and sucked on…

Sofia could barely hold still anymore. To hell with composure and self-control, the heat pooling between her legs was demanding action, and she was close to begging for relief. So what if she was going to wake up tomorrow berating herself for being so weak? Two kisses and two fingers, that was all Nick had needed to reduce her to a trembling jumble of nervous endings, all of them set on fire, all of them making her wiggle in search of some sort of release, and she knew that she was kidding herself as well, for she's going to allow Nick to torture her for as long as he wanted and she was going to enjoy every single second of it…

Nick wished they didn't have to stay underneath the car, even if it was what was keeping them alive for the time being. He wished he could roll on top of her, feel her skin on his, learn every inch of it, how it reacted, how it felt under his fingers, how it tasted, how it came alive under his touch. He wanted to ignite a fire deep within her, and wanted to be there, skin on skin, when that fire finally exploded. He wanted to feel her come under his fingers, on his tongue, around his cock…

He wanted so many things, but had yet to give the first step towards them. He was so close… so close… the clasp of her bra seemed to be taunting him. It would be so easy to open it; he could even do it with one hand if he wanted to. But once it was undone, there was no turning back. His hands wouldn't stop until they were filled with her breasts, his mouth would not be satisfied until it was feasting on her nipples… his body would not feel whole until it was joined with hers… and then the whole world would stop making sense to him.

And that was exactly what was stopping him. Had she been any other woman, he'd have already found a way to have sex, even in these close quarters. He'd probably be done by now, focusing on getting back home, back to reality, back to every day. But she wasn't any other woman, and that's why the clasp stood there, closed, taunting him, daring him to take a step forward, challenging him to go after the rest of his life.

But he couldn't. Sex he could do with his eyes closed and with very little regard for consequences. Sex was a one-time occurrence and he moved on with his life. Sex was a past-time, a way of releasing frustration and fears. Sex was an acceptable way to use a person that happened to be in that place at that time and that was it. Sex… sex he could do.

Only problem was, Sofia Curtis wasn't just sex to him. He didn't know what the hell it was, but it sure as hell wasn't just sex. Nick was honest enough with himself to admit that he could fuck a different girl every week night and not wake up with an emotional hangover every morning. Sofia Curtis, he couldn't just fuck. Sofia Curtis, he would make love to, or he wouldn't have at all.

And that knowledge scared the living shit out of him.

Cause he didn't do love. Maybe he had known how to once upon a lifetime or two, but whatever ability he had at that had died buried in a plexi-glass box two years before. He had left it behind with the remains of humanity the ants had not managed to chew on. Everything good he had had, it had stayed behind, leaving him with a barely there, watermark-like facsimile of himself instead, and Sofia deserved an original, not the watered-down version of himself that showed up for work out of habit.

Just then, she whimpered, and his libido roared in his ears. Her nipples were hard, straining against the white cotton bra, moist with sweat and wanton. As if to test his will, another bead of sweat began its slow descent form the hollow of her throat, between the valley of her breasts, until it pooled underneath the clasp, daring him to set it free.

Nick thought he could find a happy medium, and before he had much chance to analyze the idea over, his tongue had snaked out, licking the moisture trail from the clasp to her throat… her jaw line… her lips… another scorching kiss that left him weak and wanting more. He knew each time he kissed her he was damning them both, but he was incapable of stopping just yet. His internal turmoil was battling both senses and instincts and he just didn't know which side would win… although he was very much aware of what he risked to loose.

And yet… and yet… he kissed her again.

And again. And again. Until her mouth surrendered to his and his tongue reclaimed her own as his and his teeth had marked her as his own as well. He wanted her, he wanted all of her, and he was sick and tired of denying himself the things he wanted… hell, the things he deserved after all he had been through… and right now he wanted some loving from this woman and by God, he was going to have it…

His mouth began its trek from Sofia's own to the clasp that would unveil her breasts and free his dreams and his hands roamed freely on her sides and he couldn't help but smile against her skin when he felt her squirm under his touch, relishing the power he had over her…

"Nick…"

One word was all it took to shatter his world.

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**A/N: **Muse isn't taking directions kindly. She has this weird idea of where this story should go, and damned if she'd shared it with me so far! I'll know there'll be sex… someday!


	5. The couch

**A/N: **Muse just said "Write". I place my fingers on the board…

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Despite having half her mind blown away by sheer sensations (and she couldn't quite believe she still was, for all purpose and intent, almost fully clothed) Sofia still had enough of her wits with her to realize there had been a change in Nick's demeanor. "Now what?" she thought, not wanting to open her eyes, fearing what she'd find.

When the impasse got so pregnant with waiting that it had to give birth to a scream on her lips, she finally surrendered to reality and carefully lifted her lids. Mere inches from her, face flushed form the desert heat and sexual need, was the most beautiful man she'd ever laid eyes on, breathing heavily. His eyes were fixed on hers, and they were pleading… for what, she wasn't sure, she still couldn't read him that well, just enough to know that he was in deep anguish… and she seemed to be both the source and the solution of whatever it was paining him.

"I'm so sorry, Fi…" he murmured, tearing his eyes from her blue depths, "I… I can't… I just… I can't, I'm sorry"

And like a mortally wounded animal, he dragged himself away from her, leaving the blond woman drowning in a sea of confusion amidst the scorching sands of the desert. Had she done something wrong? Wasn't she supposed to talk, and having broken the precious silence with the single syllable of his name, she had broken the spell as well? Was this some kind of cruel joke? She bit her lip and turned sideways, turning his back to him, knowing she couldn't put any physical distance between them, but the single gesture bringing them miles apart emotionally.

If Nick's admittance to defeat had driven a knife deep into her soul, the mere sight of her back turned to him injured Nick beyond healing. He feared he had lost his last chance at re-connecting to humanity by hurting her, damning his own soul in the process, and the irony of it all was that he had done it by being honest. He had spent the last two years giving out lies out of pity or mercy or basic selfishness, and perhaps he had done it for far too long for him to remember how to be honest without being hurtful.

He could feel Sofia's pain, confusion mixed with rejection, both boiling in the heat of sexual frustration, and he tentatively raised his hand to touch her shoulder, knowing she might resort to physical violence to get him to back off as far away as it could possibly be given the circumstances, and he was resigned to take whatever she lashed his way, a small price to pay for what he had done to her. If he had gone over the edge so far, he had no right to try and drag her with him just because loneliness hurt like hell… or simply because hell was too much of a lonely place to be by oneself.

But before he could stretch his arm, he heard a familiar noise in the distance. She must have heard it as well, for she quickly moved on her stomach, scrambling to get from under the car, scrambling to get away from him, even if it was for a second or two, and he gave her that small moment of solitude, that was the least he could do, that was the most he could do given the circumstances. He knew it'd be hours before either one of them could walk away from this whole nightmare, their bodies not too worse for the wear, but their souls ripped in places that had been whole not twelve hours before. Knowing he was solely responsible for that kind of damage broke his will a bit more.

The sound of the chopper's engines looming in the distance, closing in, brought him back to the now and then, and he reluctantly left the shelter of the car and his inner thoughts to face the hot sun and the scorching truth. He crawled out to find his shirt hanging neatly from the upturned car's seat, and he slowly put it on before he even got off his knees. He spent as much time focusing on the shirt's buttons as possible, not having given the task this much attention in the last thirty years or so.

When he finally stood up, he could see that Sofia had already re-dressed, neatly tucking the shirt inside her black trousers, and was now waving her arms directing their rescuers towards them. It was pure Detective Curtis at work; Fi, his Fi, was nowhere to be found, probably murdered by his own sins. The helicopter began its landing process and Nick felt a surge of relief now that they had been saved.

He just didn't know if they had been saved from the desert or from themselves.

Sofia tried to act as natural as possible. She was extremely happy to recognize Jim and Greg as part of the crew and gratefully accepted a bottle of water from the first as the second quickly checked her vitals for any signs of deeper health issues. Satisfied that they were both as fine as they could be, given the circumstances, they flew back to the Police's headquarters in lieu of heading for the hospital. Brass quickly filled them on the details. Apparently, their kidnappers were not the smartest ones in the state.

Having taken Nick's truck (which, Greg was happy to point out, had not sustained any kind of damage… or art) they thought they would get away faster from the city if they used his cruiser lights, for surely no one would stop them to ask questions, assuming it was police business, as usual. The end result was quite the opposite, as an APV had already been issued for Nick's truck. Driving around with a four foot tall sign reading "We're the bad guys" wouldn't have been as effective.

Greg's worry, satisfied with the idea that his friends were safe now, gave way to his more childish self, and soon he was ribbing them both in good-natured fashion.

"Sofia… maybe next time I'll get kidnapped with you…"

"Really, Greg? Now why on earth would you want that to happen?"

"Well, maybe not kidnapped in the desert… maybe just trapped inside on of those fancy Wynn's suites with the giant Jacuzzi and the heat blasting full speed…" he let the insinuation drop, wiggling his eyebrows in a malicious gesture.

"If you want me to shoot you so badly, all you have to do is ask, Sanders. No need to put up such elaborate scenario" she replied with a straight face, not giving away just how closely his words had touched her.

It was Nick, however, who lost it, albeit momentarily. Whacking the younger man on the head, he began a tirade about his lack of tact (warranted) and disrespecting a fellow female officer (uncalled for). He dropped the matter as soon as he noticed Jim giving him an inquisitive look and Sofia looking out of the window. Greg mumbled an apology, and the rest of the trip was done in silence.

Once they got back to the lab, they spent the next couple of hours giving statements, and having their clothes and bodies processed. Catherine, having witnessed the lewd attitude of one of the assailants and the way he referred to Sofia ("fine piece of ass" was the most elegant reference he had come up with) and was tactfully asking the female officer if she wanted to have a full body swab, just to be sure. Sofia's blunt negative, almost knee-jerk in its haste, worried Cath, but she chose to keep quiet for the time being.

A couple hours later, the older woman bumped into Nick next to the coffee machine, noticing how the Texan was almost asleep on his feet.

"Cheer up, Nicky. As soon as everything is wrapped off you're getting a day off… makes me want to get kidnapped one of these days!" she said, jokingly, hoping to bring a smile to his face, but failing. Sensing something was troubling the younger man, she sat down on the sofa, patting the place next to her.

Nick took the offered seat, and leaned back, tiredly. He closed his eyes after taking a tentative sip of the coffee he'd just poured for himself, relishing on the caffeine boost as soon as it got in his system. Catherine allowed him a moment or two of peace before starting her own interrogation.

"What's bothering you, Nicky?"

Nick winced internally. He had hoped he'd manage to get away from the lab before bumping into Cath… give himself some time to settle again behind his carefully built façade of normalcy before facing the questions he knew she was bound to ask sooner or later. He'd have preferred later, but fate had chosen sooner, and he bought as many seconds as he could by taking another sip of the hot drink in his hand and keeping his eyes closed.

"You mean besides having been thrown, again, into a confined place and worrying about my partner being raped while I was out of it?" he asked sarcastically, hoping Catherine would take the hint and leave him alone for the time being.

She didn't.

"Was she?" she asked softly, not wanting to upset the obviously disturbed man sitting next to her, pretending not to care.

"Christ, no, Cath! The motherfucker wouldn't be alive right now if he had... if he had hurt her…" he answered vehemently, giving away more than he intended.

"So he didn't…?" Catherine left the question open, to see how much Nick would fill in.

"No. She told me he didn't. She said she was fine, that maybe he felt her up a bit, but her clothes were fine and she didn't feel… that he had not… oh, fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck! Catherine, I was supposed to protect her and I only managed to get us both locked up inside a car trunk, and then instead of thinking I simply reacted and now everything is fucked up for good…"

Cath was taken aback by his outburst. Nick was not one to swear easily, Sara and herself were more sailor-mouthed than he was, and he managed to keep his temper under control, even in those cases that got underneath his skin and corroded his soul. So, why this sudden flare? Was there something they were not saying? Had the perps done something to them and they were keeping quiet out of embarrassment? Or had something else happened while they were locked in there?

"Nick…"

He gave out a defeated sigh. Sooner or later he was going to have to come clean about what he had done, and the sooner he did, the better for all of them.

"I blew it Cath. I touched her like I'm not supposed to, and I told her something I should have never told her and I took advantage of the situation to force my own desires unto her…"

Despite herself, and despite the seriousness of the situation, Catherine couldn't help to laugh out loud.

"For the love of God, Nick, you sound like one of those old Harlequin romance novels my mother used to read! Heaving bosoms aside, I very much doubt you… how did you put it… took advantage of her? You're not walking funny, Nicky, and I'm pretty certain Sofia is not the kind of gal who won't resort to crushing your balls if you even look at her in a way that makes her feel uncomfortable…"

Nick threw Cath a sideways glance and closed his eyes again. "You have no fucking clue as to what you're talking about, Willows…"

Cath was pissed off by his attitude. "Oh, stop it already with the "poor me" routine, Stokes. I can assure you that nothing happened that she didn't want it to happen, so get over it. Ask her out and see where it takes us and spare the rest of us the puppy-love details."

She hadn't mean to be so blunt and offensive, but sometimes Nick took his gentle nature a tad too far for his own good, getting hurt over things that were not worth it. Knowing them both as well as she did, and having seen them on the dance floor on her birthday, she was certain those two were going to set the sheets on fire the moment they reached the bed. IF they reached it, to begin with, which she pretty much doubted. But she kept those thought to herself and prepared for his reaction…

When it came, it was not what she expected. He didn't even move from where he was sitting, head thrown back against the sofa's back. He even took the last sip of coffee and crushed the paper cup in his hand before he opened his eyes and looked at her.

And for the first time since she'd met him, Cath saw beyond the nice, clean-cut, all-American, southern gentleman. In the deep pools of his eyes, in which she found answers so easily in the past, she had a glimpse of the dark side of Nick Stokes. And for a second, and a second only, she was afraid of him.

But a second was all it took. Just as he had caught the scent of Sofia's sexual desire, he sensed Cath's fear. Far too quickly for a man who had been up for over 24 hours and who had spent 10 of those stranded in the desert, Nick got up and placed his arms on each side of her, his knee between her legs, trapping her against the corner of the sofa where she was sitting.

Cath moved back, instinctively, telling herself that this WAS Nick, for crying out loud, her darling Nicky, her good friend, and he wasn't a dangerous man. She found herself growing nervous as she repeated the last line twice, as it trying to convince her of the truth in it. But Nick invading her personal space was accomplishing the exact opposite.

Nick brought his face next to her ear and growled. "This ain't no fucking puppy love story, Willows. It isn't even one of your goddamned trashy novels. And if you want to know what happened so badly, I'll tell you. I did it. I was the one who raped Sofia back there in the desert, but you won't find a single fucking speck of evidence, so leave good enough alone as it is."

As fast as he had closed in on her, he moved back, and Catherine found herself staring up at him, open-mouthed and speechless.

"Happy now, Catherine?" he asked, and walked out of the room before giving her a chance to answer… or recover.

Looking down at her shaking hands, Catherine wondered what had just happened. Deep down inside of her, the nagging voice that gloated with every "I told you so" her conscience rubbed against her nose every time she screwed up was uncharacteristically quiet, and Cath knew why. This wouldn't be the first time she had asked herself how had Nick managed to survive unscathed blow after blow after blow, from being held at gun point, to being stalked, to being buried alive, but it would certainly be the last time. Now she knew the answer.

He hadn't.

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**A/N: **If you're reading this, it's because:

you've grown tired of fics featuring Saint!Nick or PoorMe!Nick and wanted to try a different flavor ,

you've read my work before and you're a glutton for punishment, or

you're having a day from hell and only the purest angst will do to fit your mood.

No matter which was your answer, you KNEW the chapter was bound to end in a cliffhanger. I'm a tease, damn proud to be one, too, so hit the review button and tell me just how far to take this BadAss!Nick my muse is falling in love with…


	6. The clash

**A/N: **Seems like an angry Texan found his share of adepts… wonder just how far is the muse willing to let him go?

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Catherine stayed sitting in the small break room for a long time, wondering what to do next. She was also waiting for her heart beat to get back to normal and for her hands to stop shaking. She wanted to think she was trembling out of rage and shock, but deep down she knew that fear was playing a large part in it, as well. She opted for focusing on how to deal with what just had happened. Should she tell Grissom? Bring in Warrick so he'd have a man-to-man talk with Nick and see what kind of bug was up his ass? Ask Sofia to come clean with an explanation of what had really happened while they were in the desert?

As if fate were answering her own questions, the blond detective walked into the room that very moment. She stopped abruptly as she took in Cath's appearance.

"Catherine? What happened to you?" she asked, worriedly.

The older woman took that as her cue. "That's exactly what I want to know. Sofia, what happened to you two out there?"

"I told you already, Catherine. Nothing happened. I don't understand why you want to make a mountain out this…"

Cath sighed. She had hoped Sofia would be more cooperative. She could understand why the other woman would not want to be open about it… hell, she wouldn't want to bring charges against a colleague she appreciated, least of all Nick, but if he had indeed committed a crime…

"I was hoping it wouldn't have to come to this, but we'll do it the hard way, then. Detective Curtis, CSI Stokes openly confessed to having raped you while you were both stranded in the desert… what do you have to say about this?"

Catherine had watched Sofia's reaction carefully, and didn't know what to make out of it. First it had been disbelief, then shock, and finally something very close to rage. All warmth from her eyes vanished, replaced with ice cold steel that flashed in wrath, and Catherine regretted for a moment to having brought the issue up.

"Willows, as I said in my statement, nothing happened. I told you twice already, and I'm telling you for a last time. Nothing. Happened. Yes, we were in closed quarters while trapped in that trunk and we could hardly move without touching the other one. Once we were outside we removed our shirts in order to dry them, as we were drenched in sweat. We got underneath the car, as it was the coolest place to hide, and once more, space was limited, so yes, there was a lot of physical contact, more than what you'd usually expect for coworkers to share. Adrenaline was running high, defenses were let down… we opened up a bit about feelings and such…"

Sofia's tone had softened as she recalled the events, but looking back at Catherine it hardened again.

"But nothing happened… nothing that constitutes rape, at least, so I have no idea as to why Nick Stokes is claiming such thing. A guilty conscience over coping a feel and liking it a tad too much, perhaps, if you ask me…"

Catherine looked at Sofia in silence for a moment, before nodding. No one could be such a good actress and hide her feelings so well… at least, not when it came to rape. Even if Sofia was in denial, her emotions would betray her words, but her statement had been done with the right intonation. So the, what was bothering Nick? Why would he claim to have done something so awful when it wasn't true? Catherine knew the Texan had taken a liking for Sofia… she actually found the crush endearing, and had hoped it would grow into something more. She had the feeling Sofia would be good for Nick, given the things he had experienced in the last few years. She also knew he was a horny bastard, like most men his age… not enough to turn into a rapist, but enough to allow himself a frisky moment or two… and given the circumstances, Catherine had no problems imagining the whole scenario: a wandering hand here, a heart-felt semi confession there…

But rape? No way. She felt bad for having even considered the possibility. But, then again, if asked that very morning if Nick could ever do something to frighten her she'd had said it was impossible.

"Perhaps it would be advisable for you two to talk things out… figure out why he feels he… uh… did something wrong?" Catherine was having trouble naming the situation as it was.

"Oh, don't worry, Catherine. That's a conversation I CAN'T wait to have with him" hissed Sofia, before turning to leave, almost crashing into Warrick. She quickly sidestepped him without apologizing, and strode towards the locker room.

"What's with these two?" he asked Catherine, "First Nick almost bludgeons to death the punching bag and now Sofia looking ready to kill someone. What happened out there in the desert anyway?"

"I don't want to know, 'Rick, and I have the feeling you don't want to, either."

XxxxX

Sofia went into the locker room trying to find some place to regain her wits or else she was bound to do something she'd regret later. She knew she'd have to apologize to Brown somewhere in the near future, but not before she cooled down. She didn't think a shower would do the whole job, so she headed for the small work-out area beyond the locker room. Maybe the shower AFTER 45 minutes of kicking and punching a dummy would do.

The moment the doors swoop closed behind her she knew he was there. She would never be able to pinpoint exactly HOW she knew it, she didn't want to delve into the ramifications of possessing such knowledge, she simply did and now pondered on her choices. She could feel her temper flaring again, and she knew it wouldn't be wise to confront him in an altered state. She decided to turn around, leave, get home and go out for a long run instead. She had started to turn around when she heard him.

"Shit, shit, shit… goddamn… fuck you, Fia…"

Her resolve to wait quickly melted in the white-hot flash of her wrath, as she strode to confront him. She found him, his back to the entrance, pummeling the punching bag in blind rage. Fuck, she could relate. She felt like pummeling him herself.

Nick felt someone's presence behind him, and turned around quickly, planning on biting off the head of whomever had walked into HIS space without being invited. His anger vanished mid-air when he saw Sofia leaning against the door frame, and unreadable expression in her face.

"Fia…"

"If you're so fucking mad at me, why don't you take it out on me instead of that bag?"

So she's heard him. Nick felt his temper rise again, albeit momentarily. He wasn't mad at her, he was mad at himself for having allowed her to get under his skin. But if she was looking for a fight, by God, he'll give her one. He felt he owed her that much. But if she thought she could rip him up a new one while he stood by and watched, she had something else coming her way. Namely himself.

"I'm not mad at you, Curtis. I'm mad at what happened…"

"If you mean mad as in insane, you're damn right you're mad. What were you thinking Stokes, telling Willows you've raped me? Just what the fuck were you thinking?"

"I see news travels fast in this place… She had no right in telling you."

"I don't think you're in a position to judge, since it was you who opened that particular can of worms…"

Nick knew she was right, but didn't feel like giving in. "What goes on between Cath and me ought to remain that way…"

"And what happened between you and me ought not?" Sofia asked, her voice dripping venom.

"My apologies, Curtis. I was under the impression that nothing had happened between us…"

"You bastard…" she hissed "you hypocritical bastard… who's the one calling "nothing" rape?"

Nick knew he had driven himself into a corner, but was determined to fight nail and tooth to claw his way out of it… even if it meant ignoring the obvious.

"If it was "nothing" and it wasn't "rape" what do you care?" he asked, sarcastically, hoping to push her buttons enough to make her loose control and leave.

"Shut up, Stokes, or I swear to God I'm going to..."

"Kick my ass?"

That did it, then. Sofia took a couple of steps towards him, knowing it was madness, that she would never be able to overpower him if he fought her back fair and square. The Nick she had thought she knew, the Nick that didn't go around swearing and admitting sexual hunger, would take it as a gentleman and allow her to throw a punch or two before calling it quits. This Nick, the Nick that turned her on with just one feral look and his husky voice; this Nick wouldn't go down quietly. She'd have to outsmart him and keep the upper hand at all times.

Nick couldn't help the smile that raised to his lips once he realized she was actually considering his offer and was coming to give him a piece of her mind. He'd let her think he was going to take it without raising his hands, just to overpower her later on. And as soon as he had her pinned under him… then all bets would be off.

He just never saw it coming. Having allowed his pride and lust to take over his actions, he was eagerly awaiting her to throw a punch to his upper half, his face perhaps, so he wasn't prepared for the sweeping kick she threw his way. The next thing he knew, it was him pinned under her, her knee firmly pressing against his groin, his arms caught underneath his own weight.

"What the fuc…"

He shut up when her face came within a mere inch away from him. In a flash, desire began coursing through his veins again and his whole attention was focused on her lips. If he raised his head just a bit… he abandoned the idea as soon as he felt her arm pressing down on his windpipe.

"I didn't need to kick your ass, Stokes, just your knees. And before you get any funny ideas, let me remind you who's calling the shots here" she hissed, digging in her knee to get her point across. "Am I making myself clear?"

Nick swallowed hard and nodded. Damned his fucking libido! This wasn't the time nor the place to get an erection, and yet, there it was, tenting the sweatpants he had changed into, bobbing dangerously close to her knee… and loving every minute of it.

"So it was nothing, huh? Perhaps you're right. After all, what are a couple of kisses and a tracing finger for a man who gets off on alley blow jobs and backseat quickies?" She noticed his eyes grow big, "Oh, I know all about it, Nick. You're not the only one who likes to confess his dirty little secrets… girls picked up on alleys and charged with solicitation, they talk, too, you know. Some of them even use the "r" word when trying to get off the hook. And rumors fly, Nick. It may be true that what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, but it doesn't mean it stays static and then disappears…"

Sofia was talking very close to his mouth, and Nick was having hard time breathing. Her hot breath on his lips was driving him insane, but there wasn't much he could do, least he risked painful injury to one of his most beloved, albeit tender, areas.

"You know, one of the first things you learn when you're a female police officer, is to pretend you're invisible in the locker room. Boys will be boys and they'll talk and not mind who's within hearing reach. And you can bet your sweet little ass they talk, Nick. Most of 'em patrol boys are in somewhat of awe of you. Seems like you're a regular stud, Stokes… and they've learned to look the other way once they recognize your truck parked in an alley…"

Nick winced upon hearing that. He shouldn't have been so sure that his "peccadilloes" would go unnoticed… or unmentioned. Sofia must have noticed the grim expression, cause she added after a pause: "Don't worry… rumors of your libido, as exaggerated as they may or may not be, have not reached the lab… yet"

Sofia allowed her not-so-veiled threat to sink in before continuing. She knew she had him squirming, but emotionally and physically, and she was going to go as far as she could before making herself sick. She wasn't a cruel woman, but Nick couldn't possibly expect to play with her like that and be let off the hook without some sort of payback.

And payback, as everyone well knew, was always a bitch.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

**A/N: ** For the first time in eons I didn't write a chapter in one setting. This baby took me three attempts (lack of time rather than lack of inspiration) so if it seems a bit off… well, you know why that is.


	7. The coup

**A/N: **So… first it was BadAss! Nick. Then we had KickAss! Sofia. Wonder what type of arse has the muse chosen for this chapter?

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Sofia pondered her next move. Yes, payback was a bitch, but somehow, merely threatening Stokes with spilling the beans on his not-so-secret rendezvous just wasn't enough. She could feel his heartbeat against her own chest, and each thud brought back the memory of those stolen moments shared under the car in the middle of the desert. The memories were enough to turn her to jelly and she wondered if she should just forget her crazy ideas about teaching a certain Texan a lesson and kiss him senseless.

She was very tempted, indeed. So tempted, in fact, that she brought her lips merely a whisper above his. She could feel the way his breath caught in his throat, the way his heartbeat got faster, the way his erect cock seemed to jump in both nervousness and anticipation. She could see his pupils dilate and his nostrils flare, and the way he wetted his lower lip in anticipation. Yes, he wanted her, and she wanted him as well. So what if she hadn't actually made him beg for it? Granted, their location wasn't the most ideal one, but for a quick romp, it was just fine. She was horny, not delusional, and she was perfectly aware that this wasn't lovemaking.

And she was fine with it.

Really.

In the end, it was Nick's cocksure attitude that screwed the whole thing up. The last thing Sofia saw before closing her eyes and moving forward was his self-assured smirk. And it took all of her willpower not to knee him with all of her might just then and there. And then she decided two could play that game.

Nick saw her smile angelically, and he felt a pull at both his heart and his groin. He closed his eyes, anticipating the feel of her lips on his, relishing on the feeling his memory of the first time he'd kissed her was bringing to him now. But instead of plush softness he felt sharpness: Sofia had just bitten his lower lip. Before he had a chance to complain or ask her if she was out of her mind, he felt her sweep the tip of her tongue over the tender skin.

He was no stranger to sex, passion or erotica. He had had his share of hard-core porn and a fetish or two he was ashamed to admit even to himself. But that simple act, the tip of her tongue passing over his lower lip a fraction of a second after she'd bitten it, simply blew his mind away. His hips bucked on their own volition, nearly throwing her off him and his head jerked up, windpipe crushed be damned, hungrily seeking her mouth with his own.

Sofia had no time to react before she felt a scorching heat searing her from her lips to her soul to her toes, and back to her heart and clit. All thoughts of revenge, payback, lesson teaching et al simply vanished as Nick kissed her-- she barely registered holding down his wrists when he managed to free is hands from underneath himself, avoiding by sheer dumb luck, getting caught in his arms.

If Sofia thought she had previously knows what it felt like to kiss Nick Stokes, she was just finding out she knew absolutely zilch. The kisses they had shared under the car had been hot, but romantic and timid in nature. The ones that were now threatening to set her entire self on fire were hungry, passionate, primal, animalistic… and utterly beyond hot.

Nick had lost all sense of restraint and was actively fighting her to release his hands from hers. A tiny part at the back of her brain was screaming with childish glee "I made this!" as she realized just how far she'd pushed his buttons. A violent jerk from his lower part, no doubt in attempt to get free and regain control, managed to dislodge her right knee from its previous position, and now her thigh was resting firmly atop his nearly fully erect cock.

The feeling both turned her on and scared her, and for a moment her mind cleared. What the hell was she thinking, playing with fire like this? If she lost the upper hand, which she was, in fact, loosing, she was in for the fuck of her life. Her own pussy was aching with need and anticipation and she caught herself rubbing her own body against his.

A different emotion began crawling inside of her. Fear. She wasn't afraid of Nick, well, not much, but she was terrified of herself. She wasn't a tease and she had never been slave to her basal instincts before… so why was she allowing Nick Stokes to affect her so badly? Her head cleared up enough for her to realize that, maybe he hadn't done so back in the desert, but if allowed, Nick would be close to raping her in the gym floor… and she was going to aid him every single step of the way.

Sofia broke the kiss quickly, thinking she could still get away unharmed. She had expected Nick to protest, look at her quizzically, or attempt to go back to kissing. Instead, he moaned. Her name. Moaned loud and clear, as pressing and needy as his erection humping her thigh. And Sofia did the only thing she could given the circumstances.

She ran away.

"I… I'm sorry, Nick… I can't…" were her parting words, mumbled hastily as she sprang to her feet and ran out of the gym, not looking back once, not realizing she had thrown back at him the very same words he had said to her underneath the car.

By the time Nick caught up to what had happened, she was gone.

XxxxX

In her haste to get away, Sofia wasn't looking were she was going, and she crashed into Sara on her way out of the locker room. She apologized in a hurried whisper and kept on walking as fast as her long legs allowed her to stride, not looking right or left, and kept on doing so until she had reached her truck parked outside. She got in, and realized she was trembling by the jingling of the keys, and the three attempts it took for her to be able to insert the key in the ignition. She drove in auto-pilot and was shocked when she found herself outside her home; she had no recollection of having driven there. The moment she closed the door behind here, she allowed herself to crumble to the floor, crying and shaking…

Sara had stood at the door, looking after the hurried figure, and frowned. She had been present when both Nick and Sofia had given their statement, and the detective had seem calm and collected, quite different from the disheveled and clearly distraught woman that had barely missed running her over. Shrugging her shoulders, thinking that it wasn't really her business, she turned around and headed for her locker.

She had barely opened the door when she heard a crashing noise behind her. Grabbing her gun, she quickly turned in to check what was going on. She soon found out that the noise came from the door dividing the gym and the locker area as it was being kicked unmercifully by a very angry Nick Stokes. A second look told her that "very angry" didn't exactly make him any justice. "Royally pissed off" was more like it.

That Nick had a crabby temper was no surprise to Sara: she knew he wasn't all peaches and cream. What shook her was the unmistakable tent in his pants. Before she could catch herself, she had put two and two together: something had happened between Sofia and the Texan… and by the looks of it, it had gone wrong mid-happening, so it was no wonder Nick was feeling less than joyful at the moment.

Putting her gun away, she leaned against the lockers and looked at him with a smirk in her face. She decided it was going to be fun watching Nick try to explain the whole thing.

Sara Sidle had never been so wrong in her entire life. Dealing with Nick Stokes right then was anything BUT fun.

"Aren't you a bit too old to be throwing temper tantrums?" she asked, nonchalantly

Nick quickly spun around, not having expected to find anyone in the locker room. "I'm not in the mood for small talk, Sara"

"That I can see… I can also tell you were in the mood for something else. What happened? Blondie chickened out and ran?"

Before Sara had a chance to react, Nick was nearly on top of her, actually in her face, and he was steaming. "None. Of. Your. Damned. Fucking. Business." He hissed through clenched teeth.

Truth to be told, Sara should have known better and kept quiet after that. Unfortunately, she didn't get the hint.

"Bad case of blue balls?" she asked, her voice dripping sarcasm, expecting Nick to drop the bad ass act and get embarrassed enough to back down.

What she got was Nick's fist slamming into the locker barely an inch away from her head. "Fuck off, Sara! Leave me the hell alone!"

She jumped at the smack and winced at the bark. This wasn't the Nick Stokes she knew.

"Nick?" she asked, fear and doubt clear in her voice.

Nick stopped for a moment to gather his bearings and wits. In less than an hour he had managed to hurt the three most important female relationships in his life. One he might salvage if he stopped his self-destroying path right then and there. The other two… the other two he didn't want to think about just then.

"Sara… I'm not… I can't… I think it'll be best if you just… left…"

Sara looked at him for a moment. Whatever was plaguing him was hurting, deep. For a moment, she felt the childish impulse to go find Sofia and drag her back here by the hair until she confessed what she had done to Nick. Then the scientist in her kicked in and she cast away the ridiculous playground notions and focused more on what could have triggered this unexpected reaction in her friend. It didn't take her long to realize he had been trapped again inside a confined place… enough to guarantee the nightmares to come back full force and the paranoid attitude to return with a vengeance.

She remembered the first few months after the ordeal. Warrick, Greg and herself had spent their fair share of nights sleeping next to Nick, just to make sure they could awaken him whenever he had a nightmare. The doctor had warned that the stress those brought upon him could very well turn back and bite him in the ass when he least expected it; a spring chicken he wasn't anymore, and he'd better start checking things like blood pressure and cholesterol intake and stress levels. It had taken a few months before Nick could sleep with the lights off and by himself and have a good night's rest.

He had also been skittish as hell. Any unidentified sound would make him jump three feet, and pity the guy who came up on him from behind… more often than not he'd leave with a fair sized bruise and a thousand apologies from the Texan. And then there was Grissom's office; to this day, Nick avoided it like the plague, opting to meet Grissom anywhere else in the building rather than going in there and watch the zillions of bugs he kept in there.

Nick had sat down on the bench and had his head cradled in his hands. Sara approached him carefully, softly laying a hand on his shoulder.

"Nicky…"

"Don't "Nicky" me, Sara- I'm fine. I'll be fine as soon as this shift from hell ends and I can go home and drink myself to sleep. Tomorrow it'll be like nothing ever happened, you'll see"

"But… Sofia…"

"Don't go in there, Sara, please. If you're really my friend, don't go in there. Let sleeping dogs lie for the time being… I'll find a way to fix it…" he muttered, more to himself than to the dark haired woman hovering over him.

"I could talk to her if you wan..."

"I said it was fine! Leave it the fuck alone, dammit! Leave me the fuck alone… go pester Grissom or Greg… just go!"

And with that, Nick got up from the bench and headed for the showers, leaving a bewildered and worried Sara behind.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

**A/N: **For some reason, muse had a very hard time writing this chapter. Please show her some loving by means of reviews!


	8. The conversation

**A/****N: Sorry about the delay. Muse was feeling less than elated upon finding out I'd been plagiarized and refused to cough up some Sonic loving. She dealt, understandably, a whole lotta angst... again. **

**Anyway, you have marialisia, notesofwinsey, sallyjetson and jaed621 to thank for having this in your hands today. Show 'em some loving, read ****and review their stuff. You won't regret it. Ladies: it worked, I'm delivering my longest chapter in the series!**

**By the way: this IS an M-rated story, mainly for sexual content and a helluva lot of swearing. Just thought I might remind you of the fact…**

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

Nick had hopped into the shower, hoping it would cool him off in more ways than one. To say he was confused would have been an understatement, and he was wondering if he had lost his mind for good. He could claim that he had snapped when he found himself trapped once more inside a confined space, and he was sure no one would blame him for it. On the contrary, Cath and Sara would probably end up apologizing for having pushed him so hard and everything would be forgiven and forgotten.

So why did he feel he was hiding behind a lie?

He had come back from the grave a changed man. A part of him, the better one, had indeed died back there, and it had been months before he stopped feeling like a hollow carcass just going through the motions. Oh, he laughed and he cried, but the laughter barely reached his soul and the tears never reached his eyes. He had gone into a self-destroy voyage, and would have probably managed to arrive to his set destination if it hadn't been for his friends.

Las Vegas was the best place on earth to fall prey to all sorts of vices and he managed to stay away from those in the beginning, but after his ordeal he had flirted with all of them. More than flirted in some cases. He did alcohol and cigarettes on occasion, but only when he wasn't on call… he hated working with a hung over. He had tried gambling once or twice, but left it out of respect for Warrick. He had tried drugs, but realized it was a dangerous game given his budget: he knew himself well enough to know he'd get hooked on any of them with no problem whatsoever.

That left sex.

Not that he wanted to think about sex just then. It had gotten him in enough trouble as it was. Thinking about sex got him thinking about Sofia, which in turn got him thinking about the way her body felt underneath him… or above him. Nick couldn't remember having such a strong physical reaction towards a woman before, not even in his horny dog days in high school. He could kid himself all he wanted, thinking it was just lust, but deep down he knew it wasn't just that… and that was exactly what scared him so. If it were just sex, he'd probably found a way to overpower her back at the gym and be done with it.

Granted, thinking about Sofia while standing naked in the shower, water dripping all over his body, wasn't the best idea he's had the past few months. Not when you've been turned on to the point of coming twice in less than 24 hours with no release. Especially when you haven't had any release and the image of the woman you want to have that release with is in the back of your mind, taunting you. Nick could feel himself grow hard and groaned. Talk about lousy timing… again!

He knew his body. He knew it took no for an answer only a limited amount of times and his quota for the day (hell, for the week!) had been more than filled. What's a guy to do in such situations? He decided he'd let nature run its course and be done with it. He couldn't spend the rest of the day with his cock raised mid-pole now, could he? And it wasn't as if he was all that eager to leave the showers and face the music playing on the outside, either.

Thinking about Sofia got him erect enough; the memories of the two moments they had shared so far were threatening with a sensory overload and he allowed them to spill as he began touching himself, slightly at the beginning, harder as the movie inside his head got hotter.

But something was wrong, and it took him awhile to realize what it was. Before, when he had yet to lay a hand on her, and all he had to fuel his fantasies was wishful thinking, he had no problem coming up with different scenarios to suit his fancy of the moment: he could picture her on her knees in front of him, taking him fully into her mouth… oh, how he loved watching as his female companion performed oral sex on him! Before, when his hands had yet to touch her barely clothed breasts, he had wondered plenty if she had what it took to tit fuck her. Now… now he knew she did and he could almost see himself sliding up and down between her breasts, watching as she leaned her head forward in order to close the distance between his up thrusts and her mouth, hoping she'd use her tongue as an added bonus, watching as her eyes looked up at him…

That's when the fantasy took a turn for the weird. He couldn't get her face in focus when he tried looking into her eyes. The woman in his fantasies was blond all right, but it was the wrong shade of blonde… the wrong texture… the wrong "feel". The eyes that looked up at him were blue… but they were the wrong kind of blue. And the look in them was all wrong too: there was no love in those eyes, and he wanted to see it… dammit! He had seen it in her eyes; he wanted to see it as well in his fantasies!

His hand stilled its movements. What sort of nonsense was that? Sofia couldn't possibly love him… could she? Nah… it was just his wishful thinking again. Just because he loved her it didn't mean that…

Nick nearly jumped out of the shower stall in surprise and shock. Love? He didn't fall in love! He had forgotten what love was; he was unworthy of love; he was unlucky in love; he and love in the same sentence made as much sense as winter and summer sharing the same room. He had sex, not made love and he preferred it that way… it was easier, simpler, uncomplicated…

He wasn't in love with Sofia Curtis. If anything, he was deeply in lust with her, which was something entirely different. There. Having settled that issue, he tried to end his unfinished business. He tried; he really tried. But his heart wasn't in it, and if he was perfectly honest, his body wasn't either, not anymore. Truth was, he cared for her, deeply. He wasn't yet ready to accept that it might be more that that, and given the circumstances, simply accepting he had feelings for her was a huge step. So maybe that's why he couldn't fulfill his shower fantasies…

Nick might not have believed it at the time, but he was still as noble as the day he had hoped off the bus that brought him to Vegas straight from Dallas, perhaps even more, as he'd spent almost 8 years fighting to right what had been wrong before, or return to normal what had been upset somehow. So even if had tried to delude himself into thinking Sofia would be just another proverbial notch on his bedpost, it hadn't worked. Even if he didn't love her, he respected her, and it wasn't in his nature to treat people like objects, especially not women. It wasn't without shock that he finally admitted to himself that he had become a womanizer, one of those "love 'em and leave 'em" kind of guy he was always threatening to stay away from his sisters.

It was funny. It had taken a closed coffin buried in the ground to make him loose sight of everything good in his life, and it had taken another confinement in a close space to get him to rethink what he was doing with his life, where was he going… and what he wanted for his future.

The answers were pretty simple, if he thought about them. He had been wasting his life, keeping every one of the people that cared for him at bay, hurting those who dared to come too close. He was going to a very dark place if he kept on this road, as he was bound to self destruct sooner or later: driving his truck after having one too many beers; forgetting to use protection in the throes of passion; accepting a colorful pill at the dance floor, just to help him "chill"… all of them bad ideas when you had a couple of guns within reach… and a galloping depression riding hard up your ass.

As for his future… he had stopped thinking about the future a long time ago, fully believing that he had no right to one. But that didn't mean that once or twice he'd found himself wishing for something, anything. He knew he didn't want to be alone anymore, yet he accepted the fact that given his line of work and crazy work schedule finding someone who'd understand what he did for a living… what he actually lived to do, wasn't going to be an easy feat. Warrick had sworn that dating nurses was the best option for people like them, with their crazy schedule and their understanding of not having a clock in-clock out job, but Nick had found out that he couldn't relate to the medical field workers. He had been raised in a law enforcing family; that was all he knew, that's what he felt comfortable with.

So maybe dating a fellow officer wasn't as crazy an idea as it sounded. He knew what statistics said about his chances of having a lasting relationship within the field; they were almost as bleak as the chances of reaching old age together. But he wanted that chance. Anything was better than living like he was doing right now.

And he wanted his shot at that chance to be with Sofia.

There. He'd said it. Did it change much? No, unless he actually did something about it. But first he had to get out of the shower and out of the lab and then he'll have to figure out how to go about making amendments in order to have Sofia forgive him and give him a chance to prove her that he was worth it… that THEY were worth it.

Wrapping a towel around his waist, he went back to his locker to change. He wasn't really surprised to find Warrick sitting in the bench next to it, waiting for him.

"That was fast" he said, sarcastically

"Your shower certainly wasn't. And if I pay any attention to the rumor mill, I'd be tempted to think you were actually jerking off in there…" Nick opened his mouth to protest, but the other man held up his hand, stopping him. "Spare me… I really don't want to know how you handle your frustrations"

"Thank you, PAL" Nick said, humorlessly, as he proceeded to get dressed.

"Listen, Nick, I don't want to fight. I'm here because we are worried about you. What the hell is happening to you, man? You're not like this."

Warrick stopped, unsure as to how to proceed. He had been expecting Nick to have a breakdown since the day they rescued him, and he had marveled at the fact that he seemed so… so balanced in spite of everything. Warrick knew it wasn't normal, and that sooner or later there were going to be repercussions. You simply didn't come back from the grave an unchanged man; and he had detected a subtle change in Nick's demeanor. And a not so subtle change in attitude. Deep down, Warrick knew his friend was trying to finish what Walter Gordon had started, and he had been flirting with self-destruction on a regular basis.

Oh, he knew, all right. The substance abuse when off duty, the risky choices, the women… Warrick knew all about it, and yet he had chosen to look the other way, telling himself that Nick needed a break now and then after everything he had been through, and hoping his friend would snap out of it… eventually. And snapped he had, but not in the way Warrick had hoped for. So, time for intervention. Time to do what he should have done the moment he realized the double life Nick was leading. Time to open up and say out loud the things that had been bottled up inside for way too long.

"Talk to me, man. Tell me what I can do. Tell me to go fuck myself. But say something. Cath and Sara are scared, very scared and they fear you're too far gone to get you back…"

Nick plopped down next to the taller man, shirt still in his hands, and sighed.

"I dunno where to begin" he finally admitted

"The beginning is usually a good place to do so. Or start at the end, I don't care as long as you spit it all out."

"To be perfectly honest, I'm not very clear on where one mess starts and the other ends. I'm just too tired of the whole thing. I don't hate Gordon for having kidnapped me and put all of us through hell… I hate him because of all the things he stole from me: my sanity, my direction, my will to live, my future… It took me a long time to realize that, since I couldn't do hate a dead man, I started hating myself instead. Survivor's guilt, post-traumatic stress syndrome… call it what you want, I've been living with it… and I'm tired of it. I'm tired of it all…"

Warrick's heart went out for his friend. He also felt guilty as hell. Instead of staying around to help Nick pick up the blown up pieces, he had been paralyzed with fear for his own mortality and had hidden behind an impromptu marriage to a good woman… not the right woman for him, granted, but a good woman nonetheless. He threw himself into making this marriage work, afraid of his own feelings, and had left Nick to fend for himself.

"And self-destructing was the answer?" Warrick asked softly

"It was better than the other option" Nick said defensively

"Which was?"

"Being on the receiving side of my own Glock"

Warrick was shocked. "You wouldn't… I mean… aww, man, not you…"

"Surprised? I'm not dependable, sunny-side-up Nicky anymore, Warrick. I don't know how to go back to being that guy. I can't tell you how many nights after you've gone to sleep I got up and took my gun and sat at my terrace contemplating the possibility. I… I just wanted the pain to go again. It got so bad some days I thought I couldn't deal with it another day…"

"But you did, Nick, you're so much stronger than this…"

"Alcohol helps" Nick admitted cynically.

Warrick got mad.

"That's bullshit, man, and you know it! Alcohol helps shit… if anything it just makes things worse…"

Nick felt his temper shoot again, and tried real hard to keep it under control.

"What do you want me to say, Warrick? Saint Nicholas I'm not, contrary to popular belief. I'm as screwed up as any of those perps we deal with day in and day out. I don't know the answers… hell; I don't even know the questions some days!"

"Nick…"

The Texan sighed. "I know man, I know. I've been trying to deal with it… it's just… hard. You second guess everything you do, say, or even think. And whenever you start to feel good about yourself… boom! Something happens and you're back in square one again…"

"Is that what happened today? Back to square one?"

"Yeah… I guess so. Look… I'm not going to make excuses. I shouldn't have behaved the way I did with Cath and Sara, but they pushed too hard. I've changed, Warrick. Overall I guess I'm the same guy, only… tougher. But you still treat me like I'm about to break and after a while it starts getting on my nerves…."

Warrick seemed to consider this for a moment. "I guess those two can be pretty overwhelming sometimes…"

Nick smiled despite himself. "Only sometimes?"

Warrick laughed out loud. The tension broke and for a moment, it felt as if the last two years hadn't been so bad. He felt hope. Everything could be more or less patched up. Everything except…

"And Sofia? Where does she fit in the whole of things?"

Nick let out a long breath. This was what it all boiled down to. If he was really willing to change, he'd start by coming clean with Warrick about what had happened, what he felt for the blond woman. But it was so tempting just to shrug it off… how easily he could tell his friend it had been "one of those things" and Warrick would understand, because Warrick had had his share of "those things" as well, and he supposed genetically and socially all men were somehow entitled to having "one of those things" every now and then…

But pretending wouldn't solve things. Pretending would mean a huge disservice to Sofia. Pretending would be continuing with the lie. And he was sick of lying.

"Actually… she's my whole of things, 'Rick"

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**A/N: ** Muse swears solemnly she'll be up to no good next chapter, when Nick and Sofia finally get together… sparks and clothes will fly. Really.


	9. The Chinese takeout

**A/N: **Reviewers seem to think this version of Nick is quite enjoyable. Let's see if the muse can redeem Sofia.  
Btw… you do remember this is an M rated story, don't you?

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Sofia had collapsed right next to her door as soon as it had closed behind her, and she had allowed herself to cry. It wasn't a recurring trend, but she had so many emotions bottling up inside her that if she didn't let them out somehow, she was bound to end up killing someone… and her very own name was at the top of the list. Nick Stokes came second, and she cried even harder upon remembering him and what had transpired between the two of them in the last 24 hours.

When the sobbing subsided enough for her to regain control of her body, she dragged herself up to her feet. It had been a long day, and she couldn't remember when she had eaten last, but the mere thought of food made her stomach churn. She decided she was better off if she pulled herself into bed and slept well until the next century… or at the very least for the next 10 hours.

She started unbuttoning her shirt, but gave up after the second button, choosing to pull it off over her head. Big mistake. The moment the cloth was in her face, she was assaulted by his smell, and it brought back every single memory of the past 2 years. Throwing the shirt as far away from her as she could, she leaned against the wall. She felt… dirty. But it was something that went beyond grime and sweat and dried tears. It was a matter of scrubbing herself clean from his smell, for Sofia was certain that the last thing she needed just then was to wake up and find that her bed smelled of him as well. There was a limit to the torture a woman could self-inflict before loosing her mind, and she had reached that point before they had even left the car trunk.

So a shower it was. And it felt good to be under the nearly scalding spray, allowing the remains of the day to be washed away. She grabbed the bottle of shampoo and suddenly had a flashback of her mom and her, watching a rerun from "South Pacific", her mom humming to the "I'm Going to Wash that Man Out if My Hair" number: "That's as good advice as any you'll ever hear, Munchkin, so heed attention" she had said.

Well, that's exactly what she going to do. She was going to wash Nick Stokes out of her hair… for good. He could take his cocky attitude and his Texan charm and his sexy swagger and shove it up is ass for all she cared. So he thought he was irresistible, huh? So he thought he had her number all figured out, huh? Oh, she'll show him, all right! She'd give him such a cold shoulder he'll end up thinking Alaska was as warm as his home state!

But it was one thing to wash him out of her hair, and another, entirely different one, to wash him off her skin. The more she tried to be angry at him, the more she remembered the feel of his fingers running all over her chest, and how he had managed to turn her nipples to rock-hard pebbles using just one finger pad. And the more she tried to forget about it, the more her body remembered…

She remembered the way he smelled, all musky and manly and spicy and a whole lot of other adjectives she couldn't even put into words. She remembered how his body had felt underneath her, all those muscles clenching and unclenching, brute strength under a knight's armor. She remembered the way he looked, all flustered and turned on and worried and angry and… shit! Why did he have to be so darn good looking? It would be a helluva lot easier if she wasn't so attracted to him, but, then again, she wouldn't be torturing herself with these memories if she weren't attracted to him in the first place…

She swore to herself she wouldn't give in to the temptation of analyzing how hearing her name moaned in his voice had made her feel… or the way he tasted… but it was too late now. She had run out of hot water (the only thing she truly hated about her apartment was the barely-there capacity of the water heater) and was now rinsing off under a cold spray… and it was doing absolutely nothing to cool off her skin.

Grudgingly, she turned off the shower and toweled her hair to mid-wet before twisting it in a turban. She wrapped another towel around herself and walked into her bedroom without even turning the lights. "Sleep", she told herself, "that's all I really need". But as she lay in her bed in half-lit shadows, she knew she was too worked up to sleep. She closed her eyes, and the movie inside her head began playing a blow-by-blow recollection of Nick's kisses… and before she could stop herself, her hand was already between her legs. She wasn't really surprised to find out she was wet, and not precisely from her shower. Her finger began walking a long-ago memorized pattern, but after a few minutes, Sofia realized her hands were not going to do the job.

Not when she could still feel Nick's almost erect cock next to her thigh.

She certainly wasn't a virgin, and she wasn't a prude when it came to sex, quite the opposite actually, as she had had "complaints" about being too forward. But hey, if a woman her age didn't know what she liked (and wanted) in bed… and Sofia knew both and was not afraid to ask for them if her partner at the time was not delivering the goods. It had never been a matter of size, not much to actually matter, but judging by the feel of it, she was sure she wouldn't complain about Nick… unless he was a complete jerk (or dork) that didn't know how to use what God had given him… and Sofia deeply doubted that was the case.

Sighing, she turned on her side and opened the drawer on the bed base. That was her toy drawer, her "fun" drawer, usually hidden from view by the bed skirt, and a lot less obvious than the drawers on her bedside table. Lotions, lube, condoms, a couple of edible panties, a glow-in-the-dark cock ring she had won during a bachelorette party, a pair of novelty handcuffs given to her as some sort of joke by an old flame (she showed him the door son after he had showed up with them)… and her vibrator. She had never cared much for the massive, "real-life" look with bulging veins and rotating contraptions, so she had settled for a sleek and shiny plain one… in shocking pink.

She took it out and paused for a moment, wondering if what she was about to do was okay or not. It wasn't as if she had never masturbated to the image of Nick Stokes (hell, she'd once had this tremendously hot fantasy with both him AND Warrick!) but that had been more like fantasy and wishful thinking… a bit like masturbating while thinking of George Clooney, or the cute boy nearly 10 years her junior that worked at the pool at the Y: harmless thoughts to get her quicker to a happy place where sexual frustrations were relived in the privacy of her own bed. She thought this time around didn't have to be any different…

Except this time around she had hands-on experience on how it really felt like to be loved (or something like that) by Nick…

She almost dropped the pink plastic gadget back into the drawer. She lay on her back again, hands on her belly, trying to talk herself into going to sleep and forgetting about the whole thing, but it was easier said than done and in the end she gave up the pretense: she was way too worked up to be able to sleep. She did her math in her head, just to see if maybe she was mid-cycle and therefore her seemingly out of control hormones had a logical explanation, but that wasn't the case.

In the end, she gave up and decided to be truthful: she had wanted to be fucked by Nick Stokes, and having failed to get that, she was still turned on and very frustrated about it. Hell, she not only wanted to be fucked by him, she wanted to make love to him, to have sex with him, to wake up in his bed with his arms around her, to go to sleep with his face being the last thing she saw, to… to…

Angry at herself for being weak, at least in her eyes, and with the memories running unchecked through her mind, which in turn was keeping horny as hell, she decided to stop thinking, to stop analyzing, and to simply give herself an orgasm and be done with it.

Grabbing her vibrator, she turned it on and slid it between her folds, gently caressing her labia and clit while she allowed the movie to start again in her mind. It didn't take long for her to want more than that, and as the images inside her head took a turn for what could have been, the slid the pink contraption inside her and began pumping in rhythm with her own personal fantasy Nick Stokes. Soon, her hips were arching, eager to find release and her other hand was pinching her nipples, and she was whimpering his name…

And then she remembered the exact moment her name had left his mouth, full of need and desire and want, and how his body had buckled underneath her, seeking to be closer and how his mouth had taken over hers so completely, and she found herself falling and breaking apart. And it still it wasn't enough to quench the restlessness she felt inside of her, the restlessness Nick Stokes had brought in her. Leaving the vibrator inside of her, her hand found her clit and she began rubbing furiously, eager to ride out the wave of her first orgasm into a second one, stronger this time around. When it hit her, she screamed his name in the solitude of her bedroom, but it echoed in her ears with the bittersweet feel of both defeat and conquest.

Coming down from her high, she merely tossed the vibrator on the bed (she'd clean it and put it away later) and curled on her side, hoping sleep would overcome her in mere matter or minutes. Instead of that, she heard and felt the rumble of her empty stomach, demanding to be filled. She cursed whatever deities, above or below it didn't matter, thought this was a swell joke to be pulling in on her.

She got up and kicked the door of her bedroom shut, and it gave her a small satisfaction. The inspection of her fridge reminded her, once more, that doing grocery shopping, no matter how much she despised it, was a necessary task for survival. Sighing, she grabbed her phone and hit the number 9 on her speed dial. Five minutes later, she had placed an order at her favorite Chinese place, and was heading back into her room to change into some clothing… not that June Lee had never seen her wrapped in a towel before.

Sofia chose her favorite pajama set: boy shorts and spaghetti-strapped tank top made out of cotton. She loved them cause they made her feel both comfortable and feminine, which wasn't exactly an easy task to achieve. Sofia sometimes felt a bit insecure on her looks, but she guessed every now and then even gorgeous women like Catherine had bad hair days. She quickly made a mental inventory: blond hair, blue eyes, great smile, checked. Curvy body, sexy sway, knock-out boobs… unchecked. Some days Sofia wished she were more girly and less of a tomboy, but it was kind of difficult to combine high heels and stocking with detective work in a place like Vegas.

Unfortunately, in many precincts all over the country, feminine blond still equaled bimbo. And blond female DETECTIVE had to mean sleeping your way into that position. It wasn't strange, then, for many female police officers to loose touch with their more feminine personas during work hours. And when you worked 12 hours shifts more often than not, by the time you really needed to act all girly and soft and feminine you simply didn't remember how to do so. If there was something Sofia hated was having to wear high heels and dresses… if there was an attire that made her look "butch", that was it.

Her wardrobe musings were cut short by the bell ringing, and she quickly went to open the door. A smiling June Lee was there, holding a bag full of steamy food, and Sofia's stomach growled at the mere thought of eating it. When she reached for her wallet, she realized she didn't have any small bills with her, so she ended up having to pay with a 50 dollar bill. The Chinese delivery girl quickly assured her that she'd be back with her change in no time at all, and Sofia dismissed it, saying she'd pick it up the next day, that there wasn't any need for her to come back.

Closing the door behind her, Sofia went into her kitchen. She took out the containers and spread them on the counter, right next to the soy sauces packets and the toasted sesame seeds. Reaching for the fridge, she took out a lonely beer that had been there for far too long but that was still good to go and a bottle of home-made spicy sauce she got from the downtown Mexican market she visited once a month… or whenever she had the time.

And for some strange reason, looking at the beer in one hand and the sauce in the other, she thought about Nick. Maybe it was because she assumed he'd fancy those things together, although she had never eaten with him other than a quick breakfast muffin and coffee as to know if his tastes were so… well…"typical". Out of nowhere, a weird vision assaulted her: she and Nick, here, in her kitchen, battling for the soy sauce, surrounded by take out containers of Chinese take-out, couple of beers open on the counters.

The playful tug-of-war was accentuated by kisses and hugs and the relaxed demeanor of a couple that's comfortable around each other and she couldn't' help but wonder if perhaps they had just spent the evening making love and the rest of the night would be spent cuddling in front of the TV, watching old 40's movies, quoting the lines to each other as they drank their beers and ate their food and God it felt so good to be in love with Nick and everything was…

Sofia cut herself short. It was one thing to have the hots for this incredibly sexy guy and another one, quite different, to be making up romantic domestic fantasies about him. Las time she checked, her biological clock was still disconnected, so what nonsense was this? She wasn't in love with Nick Stokes; she couldn't be now, could she? She dismissed the notion with a quick shake of her head, and returned to her meal, brief glimpses of her daydream weaving in and out of her consciousness.

Finally sitting down to her lonely meal, she was soon interrupted by the door bell ringing again.

Without checking through the peep hole, she opened the door wide open, thinking the Chinese employee was back with her change.

"June, I told you not to bo…" Sofia's voice died mid-sentence.

Standing before her, was none other than Nick Stokes.

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**A/N: ** Merge to cliffhanger... and cut!


	10. The concussion

**A/N: **Ten chapters have gone by? Already? And my leading couple has yet to get some? Oh, okay. Even "I" am not THAT cruel. On with the smut… err… romance…

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After talking to Warrick, Nick had gone looking for Sara and Catherine. The first one was dismissive at first, but after understanding that this was important, really important, to Nick, she accepted his apology. She even managed a joke about his "cooling off shower" and he took it in good jest, which meant to her ever more than his heartfelt act of contrition. Talking to Cath, however, had been a totally different matter.

She was understanding, but not forgiving, at least, not initially. She made him sweat in his explanation, and accepted the fact that, if he had changed, they ought to change the way they treated him as well. She made no promises, and he made no excuses.

"What I don't understand, Nick, is why you said you had raped Sofia…"

"Cause I wanted to…" Cath's eyes nearly bulged out of their orbits, and he was quick to add: "Not rape. I mean, I want her Catherine, I just don't know if I'm ready to love someone again… of if I'll ever be ready to do it…"

"So keeping everything to a "just sex" level is easier to handle?" she asked, with what he hoped was understanding.

"I… I guess so."

"Have I ever told you that for a smart man you're an idiot sometimes?"

"Why, thanks, Cath, I love you too…" he answered sarcastically

She just shook her head, feeling more like his mother than his friend. As she'd grown older she'd come to the conclusion that most women did grow up, whereas most men didn't. Why would a sharp guy like Nick be so lost when it came to accepting simple facts? He could solve the most twisted puzzles, keep on going when everyone else had already given up, and barge ahead with his heart on the sleeve, not caring if it got trashed in the process… and everything he did without giving it a second thought because it was in the line of work. But ask him to do the same when it had to do with his life and the idiot didn't know left from right. She just hoped Sofia had her head better screwed up on top of her shoulders or they'll never hear the end of it…

"Go talk to her, Nick. Tell her what you've told me. Apologize if you feel you need to… personally, I think it'd be a great idea, but I'm not her. Ask her how she feels about the whole mess and find a way to work things out between you two…"

And that's what Nick had been hoping to do. As he drove, he had rehearsed in his head over and over again all the things he was going to tell her as soon as he saw her… given that she gave him the chance. He was aware that there was a good possibility she might refuse to open the door, or that she might shut it close in his face. She might also open it bearing her gun… he decided not to pursue that line of thought and concentrated better on how to make sense of the things he was feeling and how to explain them to her in a more less clear fashion.

By the time he was ringing on her doorbell, he had the whole speech set up and running inside his head. But the moment he saw her, his mind went blank. Good thing was, hers did as well.

"June, I told you not to bo…" Sofia stood standing partially hidden behind the door, mouth open, but no sound coming out of it.

"Am I interrupting?" Nick asked quietly. He had never considered that she might not be alone.

Sofia shook her head. She didn't trust what would come out of her mouth if she opened it again. It had been difficult enough as it was closing it the fist time around.

"May I come in?" Nick asked, all southern gentleman.

For all response, Sofia took a step back and opened the door wider. Nick thanked her and step into the house, taking in its layout. Open kitchen, separated only by a half wall that gave into the dinning/living room. To the right a very small hallway that ended with 3 closed doors at the end. He assumed they were bathroom and bedrooms respectively. He walked to the breakfast bar and looked at the contents there. He made a mental note that she liked her fried rice plain and her chow mein loaded with veggies. He picked up the hot sauce.

"I grew up on this stuff. Ma had to buy it by the box, since we all loved it and would put it on everything. I'd put it on my rice pudding if she had let me…"

He was rambling, and they both knew it. He was just too nervous to actually bring up the motive of his visit and she was too painfully aware of how close her domestic fantasy had been to the truth and her heart ached with longing and her lower belly ached with need.

Nick placed the bottle back where he had picked it up and continued looking around her place, adding pointless remarks as he went by. "That power juicer is something else, too bad I have rarely a chance to use it…" when he saw the appliance sitting by the window. "I hate built-in grills in these tiny stoves… BBQ huge ones are more my style…" as he checked out the cooking range. "Don Chava's market… great place… I stopped asking my sister to send me stuff from home once I bumped into that place. It's like a hidden gold mine…" as he spied the familiar fridge magnet holding a grocery list in place.

He moved out of the kitchen and into the living room area. He still refused to look at her, still buying time until the nervousness in his stomach settled, which he suspected was not going to happen any time soon. This whole place smelled like her, spoke of her, reflected her, and he could almost "see" himself here: sprawled on the well-worn leather sofa with the Santa Fe blankets covering them… taking care of the tiny potted cactus collection she had sprinkled all over the place… remembering to feed the goldfish in the aquarium on the hallway on his way out to work every day…

Nick reached the single book case dividing both dining and living room areas and studied the contents intently. Her CD collection ("She likes Metallica???), her books (Michael Crichton and Kathy Reichs, mostly) and an impressive DVD collection, mostly black and white classics (""To Have and Have Not", "The Big Sleep", "I'm No Angel", "She Done Him Wrong") lay there and he inspected them for as long as he could, before running out of things to inspect without actually taking them out of their place.

Sofia felt completely exposed and the feeling both elated and frightened her. Here he was, learning everything there was to know about her, the kind of things that never came up in everyday conversation, the kind of things only someone with an INTIMATE knowledge of your persona would have… and Nick was taking his sweet time exploring all of them. She felt overdressed on the outside as compared to how she was feeling on the inside. Then she remembered the half-dozen movies she had stashed away on the lowest shelf of the case, and she was praying to God Nick wouldn't go as far as crouch to continue perusing the contents of her bookcase…

Nick decided that he'd stalled longer than intended. Sofia had yet to utter a word and he wasn't sure if she was being polite, she was holding back murderous rage or if she was simply stumped by his audacity. Whatever it was, it couldn't last much longer, so he better state his case soon or he'd loose his chance to do so.

"I'm sure you're wondering what I'm doing here…" he started, his back still to her. He wasn't being rude, he just knew he wouldn't be able to tell her half the things he had to if he had to look into her face… not because he was ashamed of what he'd done (okay, he WAS ashamed) but because if he looked at her and he looked at her mouth and she did as much as wet her lips… why had God cursed men, and him specially, with such healthy libidos? Would it really be asking for too much that just this once, the head on his shoulder had the upper hand?

"I came to explain myself. I came to apologize. I came to ask for a second chance. I came to try and tell you how I feel about you. It's taken me a while to realize and then admit it, but the truth is I'm crazy about you, and I don't mean just the physi…"

Nick had turned around to finally face Sofia, and he took a good look at her, for the first time since he had arrived to her place. And what he saw quite simply took his breath away.

Tousled hair, as if she had been rolling around in bed. Eyes shiny, almost wet. Lower lip being worried away. His eyes wandered down her body, despite his better intentions. He had no idea what he thought she'd wear to bed, but tank top and boxer shorts? Was she really wearing that? ("No way she's wearing anything underneath those!" gleefully screamed his libido inside his mind). He tried to shake those ideas off his mind, and concentrated on her arms and legs, long and lean limbs, and he longed to find himself wrapped up in them…

He stared at her for so long, unfinished sentence hanging mid air between them, that Sofia began to feel self-conscious about her state of undress. Mumbling an apology that wasn't really necessary, she left the refuge she had sought behind the sofa and headed towards her bedroom, intend of changing into something long sleeved or something equally covering.

Nick took two steps towards her, standing behind her, stilling her movements with his hand on her wrist. That simple touch stopped her ability to breathe, her ability to think, her ability to move…

"Please… don't… I'm sorry I made you uncomfortable… it's just that… fuck Fi, how am I supposed to make you believe me when I say that I care for you when all I've managed to prove so far is that I'm lusting after you like some bloody animal in heat?"

Sofia's breath hitched when she heard him. What was it about Nick Stokes that was hard to resist him when he behaved like a gentleman and impossible to deny him when he behaved like a cad? It took all her will power not to turn around and jump him. No foreplay, no tenderness, just go for the fly in his jeans, pump him into readiness and impale herself on him, riding him into the sunset… She could feel herself grow wet, and she cursed her attire… there was no way in hell a man like Nick wouldn't notice the damp spot on her white, cotton-covered, crotch. Damnit… she reeked of sex!

Nick was standing behind her, his hands on her elbows, the only place he trusted himself with touch, least he turned into a sex-driven maniac. If sex was the only language he was able to speak just then, so be it, but he was going to show her that he loved her, all of her, not just her body. If everything went well, there would be plenty of time later for impromptu ravishing atop the able…

"Fi… do you trust me?" he asked softly, his breath caressing the back part of her ears, sending shivers down her spine. Unable to speak, she nodded.

"Are you afraid of me?"

She shook her head no, and he thought he saw something dark flash between her blond tresses. Slowly, gently, he pushed her hair away. There, nestled happily between her neck and back, was a small tattoo, maybe inch by inch. At first glance, it looked like a letter Kay, but with two additional strokes, one next to it, the other above, like an apostrophe, and he realized it was some sort of oriental symbol. Unable to stop himself, Nick lowered his head and kissed it, softly.

Sofia felt her legs weaken and her self control slip. She wanted to pinch herself. Was this actually happening? All she knew was that, unless they got paged or a hurricane hit Vegas unannounced, she was going to make love to Nick Stokes in less than an hour; here, somewhere in her house. The table looked awfully good to her, the leather couch better be quiet, the kitchen counter, her shower stall… her bed. Thinking of them rolling all over her bed made her moan in need, and Nick took it as a sign that he was doing things right.

Slowly, he traced the contour of the tattoo with the tip of his tongue, sending shivers down her spine, hardening her nipples, spreading the warm wetness between her legs. Nick's hand began to slowly travel from her neck, where it had been holding her hair, to her shoulder, where it lifted the spaghetti strap of her tank in between two fingers, before taking it with him on his way down her shoulder to her arm. The strap went willingly, the cloth it held in place folding accordingly, and when Nick looked over her shoulder, he was greeted by the sight of her naked breast and a puckered up nipple begging for his touch.

Nick willed himself to not touch it. Instead, he began nuzzling the back of her neck with his mouth, slowly making his way towards the other shoulder, nibbling, kissing, sucking... When he came across the other strap, he caught it in between his teeth, pulling it down as slowly as his altered state of mind allowed him to. His hands shot up to her shoulders, running down the length of both arms, taking the straps down with them. Soon enough, Sofia's tank top was bunched around her waist, and Nick's hands were splayed over her belly, as he continued to kiss her shoulders and neck. The soft sighs and barely there moans that were escaping her mouth were all the encouragement he needed.

When he couldn't stand the torture anymore, he spun her around and continued kissing her shoulders. Nick forced himself to close his eyes and keep his hands anchored to her hips, or else this was going to end faster than he intended it to. His mouth reached her neck, and he began to make his way up to her face. He was intent on kissing every single inch of her face before he even moved to her lips, but Sofia had other ideas. Now that her hands were freed from the restraint of her tank straps, she moved them to get a hold of Nick's face, lifting his head to her own, quickly capturing his mouth with hers.

Nick forwent any attempt of even pretending to put up a fight. He had been longing to feel her mouth underneath his for hours, and he was not going to deny either one of them of that. Kissing her just as hungrily as she was, holding her hips firmly, he began to walk her backwards, until they reached the couch.

Sofia, in the meantime, had managed to unbuckle his belt and unbutton his jeans, tugging out the Henley he was wearing, running her hand on the naked skin of his abs, running her fingers along the elastic of his boxers, moaning in frustration inside his mouth for not being able to reach further down as he kept on walking. The moment he separated momentarily to scoop her up to sit her on the couch's backrest, she began pulling his tee off, impatiently, throwing in the to floor with utter carelessness as her hands began to discover every plane and ridge of his torso, her thumbs grazing his nipples until they were as hard as hers, scratching them, then soothing them with her tongue.

Nick thought he had died and gone to heaven the moment his mouth touched her skin. Now he was certain this WAS heaven, this was where he was supposed to be, Sofia was whom he was supposed to be with. This felt right, he felt at home and this is where he wanted to stay the rest of his life. Now if he could only convince her to give him that chance… he had told himself that if he ever had the chance to touch her again, he was going to be slow and gentle, the perfect lover, tuned to her every desire, learning every nuance of her body, attentive to her every pleasure point. In his mind, he was going to worship every inch of her body, from her head to her toes and then back, with just his lips and his fingertips…

He was going to make her come at least twice this way, before entering her. And then he was going to start moving slowly, very slowly, until her hips began begging for more, until her hands tried to make him go faster, until her mouth began asking for more, seeking release yet again. And once he'd managed to make her come one third time, then he'd start pumping in earnest, seeking his own release, bringing her down with him when he finally did.

His fantasy lovemaking, however, had not included the kind of raw sexual maneuvers that Sofia was subjecting him to just then. Fuck, the woman could kiss… and she was slowly but surely kissing him to a frenzy… Snaking his arms around her body, he crushed her to his chest, kissing her fervently, passionately, as he pushed her hips into his, rubbing the bulge of his erection against the damp spot in her shorts, feeling a crazed sense of satisfaction knowing that it was there because of him…

Sofia tried to loosen his grip on her just enough to allow her to lower his jeans and her shorts. She wanted him inside of her, five minutes ago. She couldn't remember wanting to feel a man inside of her so badly… hell, she'd even resort to begging if she had to, anything, really… but she needed him now.

"Stop… undress… now…" she mumbled in between scorching hot kisses and sloppy licks and gnawing bites that were leaving her lips and skin all raw and tender… and loving every second of it. Their hands went instinctively to each other's waists, pulling down, hips shimming in order to get rid of the unwanted clothes.

"Fi... I wanted… this… to… go slower…" he panted, as their naked bodies continued to rub and grind against each other, desperate to find the right angle.

"Fuck… slow…" she growled, frustrated for being so close and yet so far. "Fuck me… now… please"

Having heard her say such words inflamed him. Fuck restraint then, he'd do wild and savage now; tender and gentle would have to wait for round two… or maybe three. Or maybe sometime in the next two weeks, until his body had found a way to resist her grinding hips, her nipping mouth, her demanding hands…

With a triumphant growl he managed to enter her in one motion. Sofia moaned hard, throwing her head back, arching her back in such fashion that the first hard thrust Nick gave send them hurtling backwards into the couch. The fact that his jeans and boxers were tangled around his ankles didn't help much, and they came crashing down. His hand reached out, hoping to grasp anything that would help him avoid them rolling all the way to the floor, but all he managed was to hit the remote control. The speakers boomed to life, windows literally shaking with the vibrations.

"Perfect" Nick thought, as they lay in a heap on the floor, "Just what I needed: Ozzy telling me he doesn't want to stop…" he thought, as he fumbled with the darn gadget from hell until he managed to turn the sound system off.

He was a bit startled to find out that, despite their Cirque du Soleil stumble, he was still inside of her. Underneath him, Sofia was shaking, and he tried to move away, but her hand on his backside stilled him, allowing him to just raise his torso.

"Fi?"

Laughter prevented the blonde from talking. "Oh…. Oh god… that was… that was… oh god it hurts…"

She opened her eyes, and saw Nick's expression. His head was tilted to the side, like a dog's when not sure as to how to proceed, and that sent her into another laughing fit, her whole body convulsing. Her mirth was infectious, and Nick's deep guffaws soon joined hers, his body rocking against hers as they both giggled, and snorted and chortled.

Sofia was making an effort to stop the laughing fit. "Oh god… oh god… that was… hysterical…." her breath suddenly hitched in a lower tone, and her eyes widened. "Oh god… oh… oh… OH!"

Nick felt her whole body stiffen, and he cradled her in his arms, gently thrusting into her, aiding her ride her orgasm out until he felt her relax completely and become utterly still.

"Did you die on me?" Nick asked, half joking, half serious.

"No… but what a way to go…"

"I can almost hear Doc pronouncing you…" Nick made his best imitation of the coroner; "She died of a laugh-induced orgasm combined with a concussion sustained mid-coitus, which she got after tumbling backwards after a particularly ill-timed ram-like thrust…"

Sofia lost it again. "Stop it, Nick!" she cried, batting him away. "Ram-like, my ass…"

"Oh, really?" Nick asked, raising an eyebrow, thrusting a bit harder and deeper his time, making her gasp. "If you want my ram up your ass all you have to do is ask…" he growled in her ear, and she gasped again.

Damn man… he was going to make her come again just by merely staying inside of her and growling dirty delightful wicked ideas in her ear…

"Fi?"

"Yes, Nick?"

"I don't know about you, babe, but I'd really, REALLY like to get rid of the rest of my clothes…"

Sofia looked down and realized that, for all purposes, Nick was fully dressed from his toes to his ankles. Still giggling, she managed to slide from under him and helped him up to a sitting position. Between the two of them they quickly rid him of the boots, socks, jeans and boxers. They looked at each other: completely naked, sitting on the floor in the middle of her living room, still chuckling from what had to be one of the most bizarre, albeit fun, sexual escapades of their lives. And it felt great.

Nick got up to his feet and he helped her up. Most of the times, he was a bit awkward about parading his nudity around a woman's house, but, somehow, this felt like the most natural thing in the world. When he was usually reaching for his clothes to put them back on, he had reached for them to remove them for good, and now he was following Sofia… his Fi… naked, into the kitchen, as if it were a normal, every day occurrence. And he liked that. So much, in fact, that he wished he could do this on an everyday basis.

Sofia turned around to ask him if he wanted reheated Chinese, when she noticed his half-erect cock bobbing up and down as he walked. He noticed her gaze and blushed a bit, losing his recently found bravado.

"I'll just… put on my boxers…" he mumbled and turned back into the living room.

"Wait" he heard her say, and stopped.

"Keep walking. All the way to the last door straight ahead. Make yourself comfortable, but not too comfortable, in my bed. And keep that thought" she said motioning to his erection, "up. I'll be right there."

And with a pat on his ass, she sent him on his way. She smiled. She was a Bacall gal, through and through, although she had to admit she'd been more Mae West just then… she knew Nick had a gun… but this time around he simply was happy… very happy… to see her.

Nick shook his head, amused. Who knew the proper Detective Curtis was, in reality, this fun, sexually liberated and stimulating, vixen? He thanked whoever deity was responsible for keeping her safe until he'd bumped into her, and for giving him a chance to step into her life and have her step into his. He dived into her king sized bed, not wanting to think why a single gal would have such a big bed to begin with. While trying to get comfortable, he felt something digging in his back, and he searched in between the covers to see what it was…

Back in the kitchen, Sofia was trying to find something she could take with her into the bedroom. She had found two cans of soda (good, they needed they sugar levels high) and some roasted peanuts (proteins were also good). But, alas, no whipped cream, no chocolate sauce, not even a lousy jar of maraschino cherries. She REALLY needed to start remembering doing the chores she kept putting aside for a later time, like doing the grocery or…

The soda cans fell to the floor when realization hit her. She now remembered what else she'd left for "later" and she ran to her bedroom, hoping it wasn't too late. All her hopes, died, however, when a familiar buzzing sound greeted her before she had even opened the door…

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**A/N: ** Sorry, I can't help it. Even my smut scenes need a cliffhanger or else the muse isn't happy. But look at it on the bright side. Cliffie means another chapter. Another chapter means more sex. More sex means… you know what it means.

This is for the Wenches. They all requested a specific something-something for this scene… hope you're all pleased with the results!


	11. The consequences

**A/N: ** The muse is constantly getting distracted by shiny things everywhere and is having a hard time finding the right frame of mind to finish this baby…

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Sofia stood in front of the door without knowing what to do. She could feel her cheeks burning in embarrassment… talk about an awkward moment! Why didn't she put the damn thing away after she was done using it? Granted, having Nick in her bed had not been in her agenda for today (or any other day in the near future, for that matter) so she had no way of knowing this would happen, but still… the humming coming from the inside continually changed tempo, and Sofia could only guess what the hell did Nick Stokes found so amusing in "surfing" her vibrator's 4 speeds like a maniac…

When Nick had felt something hard digging at his lower back when he had stretched on her bed, he retrieved it thinking it was a bottle of hand lotion or a hairbrush, but he never expected to come face to face with a… a pink version of his anatomy. He wasn't an expert, but he knew enough about this type of things to know that, compared to some of the stuff on display for sale out there, this sleek cylinder was pretty tame, despite the color. He was also aware of the fact that most women over the age of 30 (single or not) had one such toy… knowledge wisely gained from his older sisters (although the exact memory of him wanting to surprise them with an unannounced visit only to barge in the middle of a "vibrator party" being held at Amanda's place was not something he wanted to remember).

So the fact that Sofia had one (a modest one, he reminded himself) was not a big shock, except, maybe, for the color. Nick would have never pegged Sofia Curtis for a pink kind of gal, but that showed him just how much he knew. The question that was running wildly through his mind was the "how" she used it. Were the rumors true, and was she involved with another female and she used this to please her? Or did she simply use it to pleasure herself on those long lonely nights after a hard day of work? Somehow, the second option, albeit more feasible, lacked a certain… uh… Penthouse Forum quality. Unless, of course, he chose to believe that she was doing it while thinking of him…which was a completely logical line of thought for him, given the fact that he got off thinking about her.

Nick had been twisting the base almost non-stop, switching speeds without really stopping to see if there was any real difference between one and the next. He had to admit as to being curious as to what was the appeal of using such a toy. He had slept with enough women to know that most of them enjoyed deep penetration and the sense of being "filled" and he understood, at base level, that fingers only went so far in fulfilling that need. So the shape and girth, that he got. But the vibrating thing? He'd never heard of a guy whose cock could rock or throb at such ultrasonic speed, at least, his didn't, so what was the deal then? Unless they used the vibrating feature for clit stimulation and then turned it off for later purposes?

What was the big deal, anyway? Ever the scientist, he decided it was worth a bit of investigative work. Setting it to the lower speed, he carefully stroked his cock with it. The sensations were different to what he was used to, but pleasurable nonetheless, and it certainly felt a lot better when he applied it on the tip… he moved it down to the base (it tickled) and slowly neared his balls. He was curious, but not enough as to risk damaging the family jewels over some crazy stunt. The sensations were really good… so good, in fact, that he decided to seek the so-called male g-spot and see if it….

Sofia heard his yelp and a thud against the wall and, forgetting her embarrassment, walked into the room. She was greeted by the sight of her pink vibrator lazily rotating on the floor between her bed and the wall and Nick Stokes, erect in all his gloriousness, standing next to it, with a guilty look on his face and turning a shade very similar to the toy he had obviously tossed away. She looked at him, then back to the vibrator and to him once more, before closing her yes and pinching the bridge of her nose.

"I don't want to know…" she mumbled to herself, although a tiny part of her, the most evil one, wanted every single detail to file away and use as reference in the future. Leverage was a valuable thing…

She scooped it up and turned it off before turning to face Nick. She found out it was very hard to actually just face him, as his erect cook proved an interesting sight, one she hadn't had a chance to fully appreciate. But she managed somehow, raising an eyebrow in mute questioning and holding the offending toy up in one hand.

"He started it" Nick said in his defense, sounding pretty much like he had 30 years prior when Mrs. Stokes tried to make sense of the battlefield the family room had turned into.

She snorted at the notion. "Even if he did, which I doubt, I don't like the idea of you tossing it around… we've been close friends for a while now… I've grown fond of him…"

Sofia thought the whole conversation was endearing and ridiculous at the same time. Nick thought it was erotic as hell. His mind did a quick dive into Penthouse mode once again, and he pictured Sofia in bed, showing him how she used the damn thing while he watched…

"Don't even think about it" she warned in a voice that left no room for arguments.

"How do you know what I'm thinking?" he demanded, trying to hide behind feigned indignation the fact that he had been busted.

"You have "porn" written all over your face. I'm not going to show you how to use it… actually; I think you've got a pretty good idea now, don't you?"

Nick blushed once more. This was quickly turning into the most surreal sexual encounter he'd ever had: there they were, completely naked, and they were discussing pornography and sexual toys.

"Come here" he growled, and pulled her close to his body. "I'm not going to let you make me jealous of a plastic object…"

"Feeling inadequate?" she asked huskily, stroking his whole length, sending shivers down both their spines. "No need to. You more than compensate for it…"

Nick cut her off with a kiss. And then another. And another. He slowly moved them back towards her bed, and once there, he managed to lay them both down with a certain degree of finesse and without loosing much mouth to mouth contact.

Once they were both lying down, he began exploring her body with both mouth and hands, leaving no nuance or crevice untouched. Whenever Sofia tried to reciprocate or pull him upwards, he simply pinned her hands to the sides and continued his discovery journey.

Nick was elated to discover that her breasts were full and firm and the perfect size for his hands. That her nipples were very responsive to his touch and that they tasted like a piece of heaven. That the flesh on her belly rippled in laughter when he tickled and tightened in anticipation when he teased. That her legs were strong enough to hold him down yet parted willingly to allow him to move as he pleased within them when he asked.

He also found out that she tasted like ambrosia and honey dew and that her clit was not so shy once he'd coax it out with his tongue. That she preferred long, languorous licks from top to bottom to piercing strokes with just the tip of his tongue. That she liked to be sucked on, but not nibbled on and that he was better off not using his teeth anywhere near her. He found out that his tongue was good, but his tongue and his fingers working the whole area together were even better. And last, but not least, he soon discovered that she preferred cursing ("Fuck, oh fuck, yessss!!!") to praying ("Oh god, oh god, oh god") when she was close to coming and that his name falling from her lips as she came was the most erotic and beautiful thing he'd ever heard.

"Come 're"

It was she who growled this time, impatiently, needing to feel his body next to hers, on top of her, surrounding her… filling her; and she made those needs known without saying one single word. Not that it mattered to Nick, who understood what she wanted and gave it to her willingly…

Fuck… it felt so damn good to be inside of her!

Nick tried to take things as slowly as possible, to stretch the moment to the maximum of his capacities, but Sofia was having none of that.

"Ain't you impatient…" he huffed, trying to pin her hips down in order to slow their lovemaking down a bit.

"Ain't you the torturing type…" she huffed back, running her nails al over his back, trying to grab hold of his ass and make him go faster.

Grabbing her hands with his, and using his body to hold her still, Nick withdrew until he was virtually outside of her. Sofia growled in frustration: this was the first time she was having sex… no, scratch that, making love… in such a long time she needed this more than air itself. She was still riding the tremors of her first orgasm, as she knew that if Nick entered her just… just "there"… she'll be getting a second and probably a third one and she wasn't in the mood for waiting… not after she had waited this long to feel like this again.

Nick pushed back in, perhaps a quarter on an inch before stopping again. "Is this what you want?" he asked, rocking his hips against her, knowing full well by the way her inner muscles clenched around him, trying to pull him in, what the answer was.

"Yes…" she moaned, both in frustration and excitement.

He pushed forward another inch and stilled again. "Are you sure this is really what you want?" He asked again, doing the up-down motion he had learned from his older sister's best friend. Sofia moaned her answer once more, desperately trying to move beneath him, to get him deeper.

He pushed in again, half length this time. "Are you sure this is what you want, Fi? Wouldn't you rather… oh, I don't know… it were your buddy over there?" Nick would never confess how much that question was to torture her and how much it was to ease his mind…

But Sofia had his number down, whether he liked to admit it or not, and she called his bluff to his face.

"I can't believe you're jealous of Pika…." She murmured

"I'm jealous of … whom?" Nick asked, stopping all movement, confusion written on his face.

Fuck. "Ah… uh… Pika? My… hmm… buddy… over there?"

"Sofia! You named your vibrator after a Pokemon?"

"Well, he is electrical… sort of…" she defended herself

"But entirely the wrong color… Pikachu was yellow and buddy over there, in case you haven't noticed, is pink…"

"I requested the yellow one but they sent him instead…" Sofia mumbled, wondering how they had ended up discussing cartoons and vibrators sold on-line while mid sex.

Nick began laughing. "You ordered it from a catalogue? What was it? The adult version of Toys "R" Us?"

Sofia struck back. "Look who's talking, the resident Pokemor expert!"

"It's Pokemon, not Pokemor, and I happen to be the coolest uncle this side of the Rockies, ok?"

They looked at each other for a moment, uncertain as to what to say next. For lack of a better argument, Nick slid all the way in, making Sofia hiss at the motion, before wrapping her legs around him, bringing him even deeper inside of her. Her arms snaked behind his back, as well, pulling him closer. Nick found himself craving this full body contact, this sense of belonging, of… completion. Careful no to crush her, he placed his arms next to her, sliding his hands below her shoulder blades, pulling her towards him, until he felt her breasts fully pressing against his chest. There was only one thing missing to come full circuit, and Nick covered her mouth with his, sealing them together as one.

She had cooled down enough to allow him to lead her at his own speed. He had grown comfortable enough within her to allow her internal rhythms to show him where to go. Flow and ebb, day and night, dark and light… Passion and desire took over quickly enough, and they bumped and ground searching for release. Nick framed her face with his hands to keep her looking at him, and when they both came, not simultaneously although it felt that way, they did so looking deeply into each others eyes.

Nick moved sideways, bringing her with him, not wanting to break the precious contact, and he thought he'd die a happy man if he could spend the rest of his life falling asleep while still inside of her. Nick knew dark alleys and back seats were over for him, unless she was with him. What he had been searching all along, that thing that made him feel whole again, had been standing right in front of him for the past two years and he had been too angry to see it. Getting thrown into a confined space once more had closed a cycle for him and shown him the door to a brilliant, better future, should he chose to follow it. He could also choose to stay trapped in the dark and rot in there, but looking at those blue eyes looking back at him, he thought only a fool would choose to stay behind.

All those emotions brewing inside of him had reached boiling point, and he had to acknowledge them orally, somehow, before they burst inside of him and got lost forever, and Nick racked his brains for the correct words to express what he wanted, what he was feeling but he couldn't come up with anything, so instead he just opened his mouth and blurted out without really thinking.

"I love you Fi"

The moment he heard it out in the open he knew it was true. He did. He marveled at the fact, he saw her eyes shimmer with moisture and he kissed each one of them, and then her face, repeating again and again "I love you" until he was certain she had gotten the message and believed it. He didn't care if she didn't say it back just then… it was really asking for too much to do so, but he was willing to wait until she was ready to say so. In the meantime, he'll just make sure to remind her of it every single day of the rest of their lives… or for as long as she'd keep him around.

"You needn't be jealous of Pika, you know," she whispered after a while and he raised his head so he was staring into her eyes.

"He doesn't fill me up like this." She demonstrated by clenching her inner muscles around his semi-soft cock still inside her.

"He doesn't keep me warm like this." She ran her hand down his chest, still shiny from the sweat they had broken into.

"He doesn't hold me in his arms like this." She shifted between his arms, pulling him a bit closer to her using her own,

"He doesn't kiss me like this" She raised her head barely enough to give him a soft, tender peck on the lips.

"He's never told me he loves me" Nick smiled at this. "And I've never told him, either."

Sofia was silent for a moment, and then reached with her hand to cup his face. "I love you, Nick Stokes…"

They held their eyes for a moment or two before the tears began. And they sobbed, holding each other, letting every single emotion that had been bottled inside of them loose, cleansing them. Once the tears were gone, the slow dance of mouth on mouth and hand on skin began again… searching, discovering, pleasing…

The rude beeping from both cell phones broke the moment. "Hold that thought" Nick told her, as he jumped out of bed and started a maniac search through their scattered clothes on the living room floor. He returned a couple of minutes later, tossing Sofia hers as he checked his own.

"That was Jim telling me I have to get back to work tomorrow at noon, but I'm having the weekend off… I really should get into dangerous situations more often…" joked Sofia, earning a swat and a don't-even-think-about-it look from Nick.

"That was Catherine. My shift starts tomorrow at 9, but she's reminding me to stop by her office se we can finish our… talk"

"Talk?"

"Yeah…" he answered as he got comfortable spooning against Sofia once more, "We sort of talked about… about what I said what happened and she told me to get my shit together and come back when I had my facts straight…"

"And do you?"

"Yep. Now I can confidently tell Catherine what happened back in the desert."

Sofia looked at him, waiting for him to go on. She also wanted to know what conclusion he had reached.

"I'm going to tell Catherine that it was Pika who raped me…" he said, trying to keep a straight face, but failing miserably.

Sofia shoved him playfully, and seized the moment to move on top and straddle him. It was high time she got a chance to play, and she began by kissing him along the jaw and the neck and down his chest, trailing her hair behind her.

"You know" she murmured as she nibbled on his earlobe, "the catalogue had a nice his-n-her set in neon blue…"

T H E E N D

**A/N: ** I know, not the super-hot smut fest you had been waiting for, but I was in the mood for silly romance today… don't forget to review on the way out and remember: door's always open, come back and visit whenever you want…


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